Adventures of an Altmer - Book One - The Prisoner (Skyrim)
by TheSparkleFoxAuthor
Summary: With dragons flying about, after being carted off to Helgen, very nearly being executed, Altmer Eilen Elsinfaere has to deal with being the Dragonborn as well as her past as the Champion of Cyrodiil – with her friend Hadvar who she slowly falls in love with. Can Eilen keep her biggest secret from all but those who really need to know?
1. ONE: Helgen

Adventures of an Altmer – Book One: The Prisoner

Chapter One: Helgen

~

To say Eilen Elsinfaere was doomed was an understatement. For some obscene reason, she was apprehended at the Darkwater Crossing, even though all her papers (passport, ID, everything, even her license that certified her as a carriage driver for Kynareth's sake) were in order. She now found herself on a cart to Helgen, where she was sure she'd meet Akatosh without a fair trial. She just knew, a sort of sixth sense of hers told her so.

She was going to Helgen, where she'd die, and there was no saving her.

Eilen forced her green Mer eyes open, and looked around for the first time since dusk the previous day. She had no idea why the carts were moving so slowly – but she suspected the Imperials wanted to show everyone that they captured the 'rebels' and also caught their leader, Ulfric Stormcloak himself.

The blond Stormcloak opposite her noticed the sudden movement of Eilen's head as she surveyed her surroundings, and smiled in a friendly way – odd for a 'true son of Skyrim', who, by nature, should hate Altmer and just about anyone who wasn't a Nord.

'Hey, you. You're finally awake,' he said. Eilen looked at him more closely, taking in his blond hair with the one braid, his deep blue eyes, which seemed to see through her and examine her soul.

'No one can sleep for a very long time in any case,' she said. 'I was bound to wake up eventually, either now, or just before the Imperials cut off my head.'

'You have a very odd way of looking at things, Elf. I'm Ralof. You are?' the Nord asked, peering into her soul again.

Eilen didn't want to give away her name so carelessly, for all she knew, he was a spy for the Imperials, put into the Stormcloak army to pass the Imperials information.

'I am called Jo by my friends,' she lied casually. After two hundred and sixty years of life, she had learned to lie to those she wanted to lie to, and could do so effectively and effortlessly.

'That's not a High Elven name,' he said, with suspicion.

'My full name is Joarelie Saelinlock,' she said, with mock resignation.

'Ah, no wonder your friends call you Jo,' he said, jokingly.

She sighed.

'Jo? What's wrong?' Ralof asked.

'I wonder what Skyrim would be like, without this civil war, where everything was peaceful, without my first introduction to the country being on my way to the chopping block,' she said critically.

'Where are you from?' he asked suddenly.

Eilen arched an eyebrow. 'Curious, aren't we?'

Ralof paled and backpedalled. 'I'm just curious as to why a young lady such as yourself would be travelling alone in such a harsh land,' he said.

Wrong move.

'Firstly, I'm two hundred and sixty years old. Secondly, I'm a master battlemage and warrior,' she said, her other eyebrow twitching.

'You don't look a day over twenty, I assure you,' Ralof said, his face going impossibly paler.

'Joarelie, right?' a dirty brunette in roughspun clothing said with suspicion.

'Yes,' she said, looking at him more intently.

'I've seen you before,' he said suspiciously.

Holy Oblivion! It's Lokir!

'Can't say I've met you before,' she said, trying her best to conceal her panic, which was rising in her chest and making her heart beat faster, like a drum. Lokir was one of her fences in the Alinor Thieves' Guild, and went back to his hometown, Rorikstead, two decades ago.

She made a signal with her jaw that said just go with it, you dunderhead.

'Must have been someone else,' he said, shrugging. Ralof glanced at him with a boggled expression upon his face.

He hummed and looked at Lokir. 'What village are you from, horse thief?' he asked.

'Stupid Lokir!' she thought to herself. 'Why would he steal a horse of all things?'

Eilen shook her head in a way that obviously said; you stupid dunderhead.

What happened next was… startling. Lokir's eyes flashed with a burning hatred that was obviously boiling for years, and his voice was scalding and harsh.

'Damn you Stormcloaks!' he screeched. 'If the Imperials hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell!'

In the Alinor Thieves' Guild, 'Hammerfell' was a code name for a land they found to be safe from all sorts of trouble. She wondered what Lokir's 'Hammerfell' was. She wondered why he blatantly used an Alinor Thieves' Guild code, but she suspected that in his rage, he forgot they wouldn't know what he meant. But, on the other hand, maybe Lokir wanted to flee to the land of the Redguards, and wasn't using Alinor Guild code, after all.

'By Malacath's hairy knuckles, all I asked was what village you were from!' Ralof exclaimed.

Lokir calmed down somewhat and said sullenly, 'Rorikstead.' He spoke a bit louder and with more pride when he said, 'I'm from Rorikstead.'

Eilen turned her Elven green gaze on Lokir for the first time since the conversation took such a sudden turn.

'What happened that made you hate the Stormcloaks so much?' she asked with real curiosity. Ralof turned his head to look at her. She looked into his mind, using her magic to see the point of such a suspicious look.

'Does she know him? Or is she just curious?' was the thought embossed in his mind.

'Meridia's white robes!' was her only thought, full of terror.

'The Imperials thought Rorikstead would be a nice place to gather Imperial forces. You know Jarl Balgruuf is sitting on the fence – he doesn't know which side to choose. So, the Stormcloaks found out about this, and invaded Rorikstead to "purge" the settlement of Imperial "scum".' You could hear the quotation marks when he spoke, and his obvious disdain for both sides of the war.

'What happened next?' Eilen asked, trying to puzzle out why her old friend hated the Imperials, and most importantly, the Stormcloaks, people who were fighting for his own freedom.

'The Imperials couldn't invade any other settlement in Whiterun hold, so they chose Rorikstead, because of its position, close to Markarth. When the Stormcloaks invaded,' here his voice broke, 'my family died in the skirmish. My wife, my daughter, her husband…' his voice was now thick with tears. 'My unborn grandchild.'

The blond Nord next to her, which she had a sort of idea was Ulfric Stormcloak himself - she couldn't see his face properly, he had a gag over his mouth, looked as if he would shed tears over the deaths of the thief's family. After all, they were innocent Nord citizens, who died as a result of the civil war.

'Divines. I'm sorry for your loss,' Eilen said with genuine sorrow.

'No matter. I'll meet them in Sovngarde soon,' he said.

Don't think that, she wanted to say. You won't die, she wanted to scream. But she couldn't say with a sense of surety that he would not perish.

She turned her magic to the mind of Lokir.

'My family… My poor family,' were the pained words of his sorrowful mind. 'Ironic that I meet Eilen again close to the end of my life, at this point in time in the Fourth Era.'

The warmth and love that emanated from his thoughts at the mention of her name was overwhelming. Could it be that Lokir admired her as well as looked up to her, the nimblest thief in the Guild?

The warm breeze that floated around her ruffled her neatly cut brown blonde hair. This movement made her earrings jingle, which captured Ralof's attention. She was a High Elf, but wore one Talos charm earring, and two ruby pendants, one in each ear, the Talos pendant in the shell of her left ear, the rubies in the usual place for earrings.

Then Ralof knew he could trust the Mer. Even though she was an Altmer, who were prideful elves, she turned against her own people, and believed in the Nord hero-god.

The environment changed – lush green forests and mossy paving-stone roads replaced with cobblestone and grey stone towers.

'This is Helgen,' Ralof announced, with remembrance and sorrow.

'A true Nord town, in Falkreath. Look how low it has fallen, to house Imperials,' another Stormcloak in their cart said with clear disdain and a snort.

'Shut up back there,' the Imperial cart driver said, annoyed at the prisoners' constant conversation.

'I wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in,' Ralof said, ignoring the Imperial's command.

'What's wrong with him?' Lokir asked Ralof, looking at Ulfric. Ulfric was scowling as best he could , turning his stormy gaze to Eilen. He was growling.

'Watch your tongue!' Ralof shouted, his head snapping around to look in Lokir's direction. 'You're speaking about Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!'

'Ulfric Stormcloak? The Jarl of Windhelm? Gods, if they've captured you, what are they going to do to us?'

'Get these prisoners out of the carts! Move it!' a harsh female voice commanded, much to Lokir's dismay.

'Shor, Dibella, Mara, Akatosh, Divines, please help us!' Lokir said frantically. Eilen knew, as soon as he could, he'd run.

'Lokir, whatever you do, don't run,' she said.

Lokir looked at her. 'We're going to die, Jo.' He placed emphasis on Eilen's pseudonym. 'Die. And you say I mustn't run?'

'Trust me,' Eilen said, 'Don't run.'

The cart stopped suddenly, and the prisoners were commanded to file out by the driver. As soon as their feet touched the ground, they were herded into a formation of sorts, two by two.

'Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm,' a brunette Nord holding a book and quill said. Ulfric moved forwards, the Captain (Eilen suspected that was her state of office, due to her armour and crested helmet) inspected him, and signalled for him to walk towards the block.

'Ralof of Riverwood,' the Nord said again, with thinly veiled contempt. Ralof moved forward and was inspected by the Captain. He moved towards the block.

'Lokir of Rorikstead,' the Nord called out yet again. Lokir obediently allowed himself to be inspected, and moved towards the block, like Ulfric did.

'The next person on my list is Eilen Elsinfaere. An Altmer. You don't happen to be her, Elf?' the brunette asked, looking at his list.

'My name is Joarelie Saelinlock. I don't know who Eilen is,' Eilen lied easily. Lokir looked over his shoulder, fear in his eyes.

Eilen moved her head in a way that said 'I've got this'. In all actuality, she didn't, but she didn't want Lokir to bolt and die by the Legion Archers' hands.

'What do we do, Captain? She's not on the list,' the brunette said.

The Captain, meanwhile, was looking at Eilen suspiciously, at the hair covering her left ear. She was sure she saw a glint of copper and iron in the sun when the Elf got off the carriage. She took the few short steps between her and 'Joarelie' at a brisk pace and roughly yanked her blonde brown hair out of the way.

And a Talos charm stared her in the face.

The Thalmor agents behind Eilen gasped.

'One of our kind, wearing the charm of a false god?' one said.

'Death to the heathen elf!' other Nords hissed and shouted.

'Damnit,' Eilen thought. 'Akatosh, I know I haven't been the best Altmer in the world, and I've committed a few crimes, but please, help me if you can!'

'To the block, prisoner, nice and easy. We'll make sure your remains are returned to the Summerset…'

'She is a traitor to our kind! She will be cremated in the furnace of the guard tower!' a golden skinned elf said in a haughty tone.

Eilen gulped as she was led to the block. There was no saving her now. Ulfric was addressed by Tullius, and then the Captain told the priestess of Arkay to give the prisoners their last rites.

'As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Ni…' here she was cut off by an evil glare from a Thalmor Justiciar. 'Eight divines be upon you, for you are the…' she was interrupted again by a red haired Stormcloak soldier.

'For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get over with this!' he spat.

'As you wish,' the priestess said curtly.

The Captain pushed the soldier down almost gently, and it looked like she had tears in her eyes.

'Rest peacefully, my love,' she said to the redhead, and then it was over as soon as it had begun. Next thing Eilen knew, the Captain was glaring at her with tears in her blue eyes, and tears streaming down her cheeks.

'Next, the heathen Elf!' she shouted hoarsely.

'In the name of my ancestors,' she heard a voice say, as the Captain laid a hand on Eilen's back.

'And yours, Mer,' the voice said, joined by two new ones, as the Captain pushed her slowly down.

'For ages, the Dragons held this land in an iron grip, and are destined to rise again,' she heard four new voices joined with the first two say, as her neck hit the cold stone thick with warm, fresh blood and flaky dried blood.

'You will not die here today, Eilen Elsinfaere.' Six new voices joined the others, the last one regal, deep and beautiful.

Martin.

A roar sounded in the distance, snapping Eilen out of her daze.

'What was that?' the brunette said, his voice only slightly betraying his shock.

'It's nothing. Carry on.' Tullius' voice was harsh – no one could betray the Voice of The Emperor.

The headsman lifted his heavy axe. It was the end. She could feel many people's eyes on her, and, the weak attempt of magic from a mind she knew well. Lokir. He asked her to teach him her spells, many years ago. Eilen was an accomplished mage who could create her own spells. Unfortunately, Lokir was not.

'Don't… give up. You'll –'

The spell broke as Lokir ran out of Magicka.

The roar sounded again – but closer this time.

A black shape came into view –

And flew right towards them. A dragon.

'What in Oblivion is that?' Tullius shouted, his voice hoarse from the use of Voice of The Emperor. He looked up at the sky in shock.

'Dragon!' one of the Nords shouted. Eilen barely heard any of this. The dragon landed on the tower, and used a shout that sounded oddly like 'Fus Ro DAH!' and the headsman went flying. The dragon opened its fearsome jaw again and called forth a devastating meteor shower… With its voice.

'Hey.' Ralof's tone was urgent. 'Joarelie. Get up, we need to keep moving! The gods won't give us another chance!'

Eilen staggered to her feet, and looked around at the town of Helgen.

Well, what was left of it.

The dragon had destroyed nearly everything, and Eilen couldn't help but feel sorry for the Nords that lived in Helgen, and that they had nowhere to go, now that their town and all their belongings were destroyed by dragon fire. Try telling that story at a pub – they'd lock you in the Jarl's dungeon for drinking too much Nord mead or some of that imported Dunmeri stuff – Sujamma.

'Joarelie!' Ralof hissed. Eilen staggered after him. He strode into a tower that wasn't destroyed by the Big Black Behemoth and spoke urgently to Ulfric.

'Could the legends be true, Jarl Ulfric? The dragons have come back? The Harbingers of the End Times?' he asked in a low and fast tone of voice.

'Legends don't burn down villages,' Ulfric said. His voice sounded the same – soft as butter, but sharp as a knife at the same time. He looked at Eilen, and then looked around the tower. They were alone, the soldiers within long since fled, and the injured Stormcloaks long since escaped.

'When were you planning on telling us the truth, Elsinfaere?' Ulfric said, turning his blue-grey gaze upon her.

'I needed to make sure I could trust you two. Where's…' she almost said 'Lokir', but then opted for 'the thief. Where's the horse thief?'

'Don't play tricks on me, Elsinfaere. I know about Lokir's past with the Alinor Thieves' Guild. And how, even after eleven years, one can stay the same, especially an elf such as yourself,' Ulfric spat.

'Oh, the racist tendencies come out straight away. I'm sorry I didn't stick around Windhelm, Your Highness. I was merely looking for a more welcoming place to settle down into. Y'know, one where people didn't hate me just because I'm "a Thalmor-"'

'That's enough!' Ulfric interrupted her. 'That is not true and you know it. Damnit, woman! Why do you think I saved you in the first place?'

'I don't know and I don't care. Right now I want to get out of here before the dragon brings the whole damn tower down on top of our heads!' Eilen shouted with such vehemence that even Ulfric stopped in his tracks.

'Elsinfaere?' Ralof asked quietly and suddenly. 'Eilen Elsinfaere. The one Hadvar was looking for.'

Hadvar. The brunette.

'I am going to ask one more time. Where is my colleague?' Eilen asked.

Ulfric folded his arms across his chest. 'Give us a reason to trust you, Elf,' he said.

Eilen caught her right pinkie finger with both her middle and ring fingers, and absently started moving the fingers around in her own iron grip. Ulfric noticed this, her mechanism to cope with nervousness, and smirked.

Eilen unfurled her hand from its makeshift pinkie finger trap and let Magicka course through her veins in the form of a Shocks spell.

'Give me one reason not to electrocute you, Ulfric,' she hissed venomously.

'Give me one reason not to incapacitate you and leave you here for the Imperials to catch, Eilen,' Ulfric retorted.

 _Le end..._

 _HAHAHA of the chapter... You don't think this is a one-shot, do you?_


	2. TWO: Escape Helgen

**LAST TIME**

Eilen caught her right pinkie finger with her middle and ring fingers, and absently started moving the fingers around in her own iron grip. Ulfric noticed this, her mechanism to cope with nervousness, and smirked.

Eilen unfurled her hand from its makeshift pinkie finger trap and let Magicka course through her veins in the form of a Shocks spell.

'Give me one reason not to electrocute you, _Ulfric_ ,' she hissed venomously.

'Give me one reason not to incapacitate you and leave you here for the Imperials to catch, _Eilen_ ,' Ulfric retorted.

 **THIS TIME**

'Go to _Oblivion_ ,' Eilen hissed and retreated up the stairs. Ulfric moved to follow her, but his arm was roughly caught by Ralof.

'Ralof, unhand me. I'm going after her,' Ulfric said.

'Not until I have some answers, Jarl Ulfric.' Ralof's tone was stern, as if he was talking to his nephew, Frodnar.

'What do you want to know, Ralof?' Ulfric asked, shooting an urgent glance up the stairs, where Eilen had just come face to face with the 'Big Black Behemoth', as she called it. It incinerated a Stormcloak soldier and flew away, opening Eilen's path so she could jump through the hole in the tower into the top floor of the inn.

'Who is that Altmer, Ulfric? And why did she lie to us about her name? She's wanted for something, just like us. What. Did. She. Do?' Ralof asked, getting angrier by the minute.

'She was in the Great War with me thirty years ago,' Ulfric said, watching Eilen's arms windmill as she fell into the inn's top floor.

'And?' Ralof asked.

'She was on the Thalmor side,' Ulfric said, now looking at Ralof. 'She saved me from death, thus becoming a traitor to the Dominion. She came back with me to Windhelm, because if I didn't take her there, there would be no place she could hide, the Thalmor would find her. We fell in love, and she stayed with me for a few years until, eleven years ago, she left me,' Ulfric said looking at the space Eilen was in minutes ago.

'That Talos charm earring,' Ralof said. 'You gave it to her?'

'That I did, and it warms my heart that she still wears it today,' Ulfric said.

'I wonder what General Stone-Fist would say if he found out you fell in love with a "witch elf",' Ralof said, with a small smile on his face.

Ulfric laughed. 'He knew. He saw me watch her as she left the dinner table to go to her quarters every night. He told me to stop being a milk drinker and go for it.'

The look on Ralof's face was priceless.

'I saved her after she saved me. Galmar found that honourable. He loved her like someone would love a sibling,' Ulfric carried on.

'What happened? Why do you two hate each other now?' Ralof asked.

'That, my friend, is a story for when we have a bottle of mead in our hands,' Ulfric said and clapped him on the back with a grin. 'Let's get out of here.'

Eilen was getting tired of being called 'prisoner'.

Some scenarios were, 'Still alive, prisoner? Follow me if you want to stay that way.'

'Keep close to the wall, prisoner!'

Each time, Eilen corrected him with a soft 'Joarelie', but Hadvar didn't listen.

They eventually got to the keep, where Ulfric and Ralof were trying to get the door open.

'Ei-'

Ulfric cut Ralof off with a glare.

'Joarelie!' Ralof called, corrected.

'Ralof! Out of my way!' Hadvar shouted in anger.

'We're escaping, Hadvar. There's no stopping us,' Ralof said, in a sarcastic tone.

'Fine! I hope that "Big Black Behemoth" takes you all to Sovngarde!' Hadvar shouted. He'd listened to Eilen after all, but apparently only when she made snarky remarks. Then he looked at Eilen. 'With me, prisoner!'

'Come, Joarelie!' Ralof shouted. Eilen didn't know which to choose – escape with Mr Grumpy Eastmarch, or be called Prisoner.

'You two were both friends?' Eilen said. 'I'll escape by myself, thanks.'

'Head to Riverwood!' both said. Then glared at each other.

'My uncle…'

'My sister…'

'Runs the smithy there…'

'Owns the mill there…'

'I'm sure she wouldn't mind…'

'I'm sure Uncle Alvor wouldn't mind…'

'If you stayed there for a while,' they finished together.

'Thanks,' Eilen said, and grabbed a sword from a dead Imperial soldier.

Then she ran, and ran, down the path, cutting down soldiers, and out of the gates of Helgen.

And somewhere, a mad prince and a sadistic torturer were both laughing, one out of mirth and one out of sheer bloodlust.

'Meridia's white robes of sparkling light,' Eilen grumbled. She regretted walking alone. The light travelling clothes were all she had – her backpack with most of her gold and her folded up heavy armour (the bag had an almost bottomless pit enchantment on it) were all still in Helgen. A place that was burning to the ground. Thankfully, she had a couple hundred, close to a thousand, Septims.

'HEY!' she heard. Ralof.

'WHAT?' she screamed back.

'WAAAAAIT!' Ralof screeched, waving his arms. Where was Ulfric?

'WHERE'S THE GRUMPY BEAR?' Eilen called out, and suddenly Ralof was running, at an alarming speed, and stopped in front of her.

'He…' he huffed, 'Escaped by himself, just like you.'

'Well.' Eilen's tone was gleeful. 'Let's go, then. To Riverwood.'

'Why'd you lie about your name…' he said, but trailed off as a big black shape flew over their heads. ' _Get down_ ,' he hissed.

They ducked down and the dragon flew away.

'He said something like " _Zu'u Al-du-in_ " to me back in Helgen... Think that's his name?' Eilen said.

' _Zu'u Al-du-in_?'

'No. Just Alduin.' Eilen's voice was disparaging.

'Alduin… The World Eater!'

'Yep,' Eilen said blandly.

'How did you hear him?' Ralof asked.

'I don't know,' Eilen said truthfully. 'Didn't you?'

'No,' Ralof said slowly. There was an awkward silence.

'What's that scar on your neck?' Ralof asked suddenly.

Eilen turned around with a raised eyebrow. And, Ralof noticed she was holding her pinkie finger in her middle finger and ring finger again. She was nervous.

'I'd rather not talk about it,' Eilen said, and looked at Ralof.

And they went on to Riverwood.

That night, Eilen was caught in a dream.

 _Men and Mer alike held her down, brandishing a tube, a scalpel and a large pot of blood. Blood she knew for sure was Martin's._

 _'Sit still!' a grumpy Imperial growled and motioned to an elf and they began the operation that they thought would turn her into a Dragonborn, like Martin was._

Eilen woke up in the Sleeping Giant inn screaming.

'Eilen!' Delphine shouted.

'WHAT?' Eilen called back.

'STOP SCREAMING AT THREE IN THE MORNING ON A MORNDAS!' Delphine screeched. And that is how Eilen found herself at the river. A soft green glow emanated from a plant nearby as it hummed its song with haunting beauty. Nirnroot. She remembered how, two hundred odd years ago, she helped a fellow Altmer named Sinderion. She now knew a lot about Nirnroot, thanks to him.

'Can't sleep?' she heard someone say. Hadvar.

'What are you doing here, Hadvar?' Eilen asked, slowly turning her head to look at him.

'I've been thinking,' he said, his voice soft.

'About?' Eilen asked.

'You are Eilen Elsinfaere, right?' he asked, avoiding the topic.

'Yes,' she said slowly, staring at the Nirnroot next to her.

'Then I can trust you. You knew Jarl Ulfric, right?' he asked.

'I still know him.' Eilen's tone of voice was dead.

'I'm thinking of leaving the Legion,' Hadvar said.

'Now why would you do that?' Eilen asked as if he was the most dumb of all the 'dunderheads' she had ever met.

'I saw the true face of the Legion that day, when they tried to kill an innocent woman without a trial.' His voice was full of regret.

'Oh no,' she thought. 'He's going down the same path Ulfric went down. DANG YOU, DIBELLA!'

'It's nothing,' Eilen said too quickly.

'It's not!' Hadvar said, jumping up almost theatrically. The sight would've made her laugh, if not for a certain Divine's intervention and the severity of the current situation. 'You could've died, Eilen.'

'I've almost died a lot Hadvar. Part of the job, having a long lifespan,' Eilen said, almost desperately.

Suddenly, Hadvar was holding both her hands in his and she was facing him.

'I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you did, Eilen.'

'DIBELLAAAAA!' Eilen screamed at the purple auroras in the sky and ran into the water, pyjamas be damned in her opinion.

'EILENNNNN!' Hadvar shouted as she swam downriver.

'Tired?' Ralof said the next morning as he observed Eilen still in her damp pyjamas.

'No,' Eilen said sarcastically. 'I'm full of energy.'

'Don't do that,' he said softly. 'Don't be sarcastic while you're grumpy.'

'Not you too,' Eilen groaned.

'What'd I do now?' Ralof asked.

'Nothing,' Eilen said. 'Nothing at all.'

Eilen walked out of Ralof's sister's house and walked down the street to Riverwood Trader. The shop was open, and she could hear bickering from her side of the door.

'Well, someone has to do something!' a female Imperial shouted.

'No! No gallivanting in Nord ruins for you!' a male voice shouted.

'Am I interrupting something?' Eilen said as she walked through the door.

The Imperial man ran a critical eye over Eilen's linen pyjamas, still slightly damp.

'I'm here to buy stuff,' Eilen said, examining a perfect golden hued fingernail.

'Well, okay then. Where are you headed?' The trader, Lucan Valerius, was friendly, and showed her to his merchandise.

'The College of Winterhold,' Eilen said sarcastically. 'No, no, I'm kidding,' she added when she saw the expression on Lucan's face as he looked at his sister, Camilla.

'I'm actually going to Whiterun. Gerdur asked me to, what with the dragon, y'know,' Eilen said, with a wry smile.

'It's good someone has taken up that duty,' Lucan said. He took a breath as if to ask her something, then let the breath out in a sigh.

Eilen saw this.

'Did something happen?' she asked Lucan.

Lucan looked relieved. 'I'm glad you asked, Elf.'

'Eilen.'

'Eilen. Some robbers broke into our shop – but they only stole one thing. Solid gold, in the shape of a dragon's claw. If you could get it back, then we'd be very happy. The only place they could've gone with it to would be Bleak Falls Barrow – not very far away from here or Whiterun, I assure you,' Lucan said.

'I'll get that claw back for you,' Eilen said. 'It's a good Morndas for you, Mr Valerius.'

'Thank you. If you can get that claw back… I've got some gold coming in from my next shipment. It's yours if you can bring me my claw back,' Lucan said. 'And please, just call me Lucan.'

'Sure thing, Lucan. And I will bring that claw back. Now, let's see some leather armour,' Eilen said, rubbing her golden hands together.

A good half hour later, and a few hundred Septims short, Eilen walked out of Riverwood Trader wearing leather armour and a smile. She walked to Gerdur's house and informed them that she would be going soon, but to Bleak Falls Barrow. Then, after returning Lucan's claw, she'd buy more supplies and make the journey to Whiterun.

'You have a good heart, Eilen. The Nords here didn't really trust you at first, because you're an Altmer… But you're alright,' Hod said.

Eilen didn't tell them about her being part of the Thalmor all those years ago. They'd chase her out of the house with empty bottles of Black-Briar mead and any weapons they could find. She thanked them for their hospitality, and left.

Eilen walked up the snowy hill. Slowly. She wondered why she couldn't find a stable anywhere. She needed a horse. Urgently.

'My legs are killing me!' Eilen exclaimed every two steps.

'Huh?' she heard. It sounded like an Orsimer man. She finally got to the top of the hill, and saw a hulking Orc in full iron armour.

'You picked a bad time to get lost, friend,' the Orc said, and unsheathed a huge greatsword of iron.

Yay.

She held out her hands and let her Magicka flow in the form of fire. The Orc's iron armour heated up, and then he was lying on the ground, making the snow melt around him.

'I'm sorry,' she said, sorrow colouring her voice.

'No! You killed him!' a woman cried out. A Nord bandit in fur armour came flying out of the tower, her two daggers glinting in the early afternoon sun.

She stopped short as a fear spell hit her. She ran away screeching in terror. Eilen entered the tower. Three more bandits were defeated by her magic. She donned the iron armour of the bandit chief at the top of the tower (not the Orc's armour – that was melted in some places, and unsalvageable) and carried on up the hill after downing a whole potion of stamina. Finally, Bleak Falls Barrow came into Eilen's line of sight. She walked calmly up the stairs.

'Hey, you're not supposed to…' a male Nord said, stopping short when he saw Eilen's breathtakingly beautiful Elven face, her high and dainty cheekbones, her beautifully slanted green Mer eyes, her full and bow shaped lips, as pink as a rose, and her delicate nose, slightly upturned and pointy – the looks of a princess. 'Be here,' he finished.

'Oh?' she said, her ringing voice took on a confused tone. 'And here I was hoping to join up,' she said, placing a small and gauntleted hand on an ironclad hip.

'Well, you're in the right place to be! Welcome to the Bleak Falls Bandit Club! The BFBC!'

'The… BFBC?' Disapproval was thick in her voice, as she narrowed her leaf green eyes. 'Is that the only name you could come up with?'

'It wasn't me! It was Rory!' the Nord said.

Eilen laughed. It was a high, bell-like sound. 'Alright, I'll join,' she said, stifling a few giggles.

He handed her a black burlap cape. 'Wear this,' he said. 'It is symbolic to only us, the Bleak Falls bandits. Rory will know that you've joined. Don't try to join any other bandit groups with this cape, though. They won't recognise it. No one will. To everyone else, it's just an ordinary cape. Good to keep the cold out, though.' He looked up to the sky. He scrutinized Eilen as she fastened the cape over her shoulders, though.

'You're good to go,' he said. His eyes widened as Eilen moved closer to him. His face flushed as she hugged him, and a second later, his face contorted in pain. There was an elven dagger stuck just below his right rib.

'Don't take this personally,' Eilen said, a small wry smile on her face. 'Don't take this personally, and I won't. I actually never wanted to be a bandit. Although, it seems fun now. Thanks for the cape! I'll be sure to think of you when I wash it every weekend.'

The Nord tumbled down the stairs noiselessly, with a hurt expression on his face in his last moments.

'You should join the Brotherhood,' a bandit said, as she clapped her hand on Eilen's iron shoulder plate.

'Nah, in my two hundred and sixty years it never appealed to me. But the Thieves Guild! Ah, now that's exhilarating,' Eilen said, a grin on her face.

That night, while everyone was sleeping, Eilen carefully went around the bedrolls and drained the life from the bandits with a spell a destruction magic mentor of hers, who happened to be a vampire, taught her. Full of the bandits' energy, Eilen picked the lock on the treasure chest Rory pointed out with literal sparkles in his eyes. Inside, she found a few minor healing potions, a few Magicka potions (also of the 'minor' range, to her dismay) and some lockpicks. She also found a deer pelt that looked rather interesting, the deer was evidently of a deep brown, almost black colour with green spots instead of the normal light brown. She opened her book, The Mer's Guide to Skyrim and All Its Oddities, and looked up all the deer found in Skyrim.

'Vale deer. Found in the Forgotten Vale, a desolate place, with haunting beauty, but inhabited by hordes of Falmer.'

Upon closer inspection, the deer pelt had a faint red shimmer to it.

'Could it be a deer pelt enchanted to keep the wearer warm?' She draped the pelt over her shoulders, and felt instant warmth. There were buttons, made out of carved deer antlers, and, feeling a bit of a chill, she decided to keep the pelt on as she journeyed further into Bleak Falls Barrow.

'Eilen… You betrayed us…' she heard, a raspy, dying voice.

'Oh?' she said, and her voice rang. 'I thought this would be better than outright killing you in cold blood.'

'Eilen…' And then Rory was dead. Eilen mimed wiping a tear away, with a straight facial expression and walked through the large wooden double doors. The air was colder down here, and full of dust.

' _Aav dilon_!' she heard, a raspy voice, like Rory's before he passed on, but much drier, and hoarse from not being used in many years, possibly several hundred. This person most probably died before even she was born, two hundred and sixty years ago. She was right. A dead looking person stumbled out from behind a pillar.

'A draugr?' she asked herself. She watched as its bony arms with decaying flesh and muscle reach over its shoulder and pull a rusted greatsword out of a wooden sheath.

' _Faaz! Paak! Dinok_!' it shouted again, before bracing itself on the ground, its arms at its sides, holding the greatsword in one hand effectively.

' _Fus Ro!_ ' it all but screeched at her. A blue sort of ethereal force spilled from its mouth, knocking her backwards a little.

'You little Daedra bootlicker!' she said, using her favourite insult. She hacked and slashed at it in fury. It eventually died, crumbling to the ground with a raspy last breath. She looted it (she cringed the whole time, chanting 'ew, ew, eww!') and found herself some lovely gems, gold, and some lockpicks.

A half hour later, Eilen found herself sneaking through a passage because she heard someone crying out for his friends. Her foot hit a pressure plate, and she cringed. A log swung down from the ceiling with a series of large creaks and groans.

'Who's there? IS THAT YOU??' the person shrieked.

'WHO ARE YOU LOOKING FOR?' Eilen called back, still crouched down.

'NOT YOU! WHERE'RE MY FRIENDS?'

'WERE YOU WITH RORY?'

'YES!'

'THEY'RE DEAD!'

'Filthy n'wah! YOU KILLED THEM!'

'SO?' Eilen retorted. She got up and stormed down the corridor, her black burlap cape and deer pelt billowing behind her with her rage. Forget the greatsword on her back – she raised her arms and let a powerful spell charge in both her hands.

'Listen here, buddy,' Eilen sneered. 'You have something I'm looking for.'

'What would that be? OH NO, NOT AGAIN!' he screeched as a giant frostbite spider descended like a pantomime demon from a thin, silky web. She released the spell, and it curled up on its back, dead, a few minutes later.

'There's a reason I called that spell "Doom" when I created it two hundred years ago!' Eilen said to the spider's corpse.

The humour was lost on Arvel.

'Can you cut me down?' he asked.

'Gimme the claw first,' Eilen said. She was bent over, her hands resting on her thighs, just above her knees, and she was trying to catch her breath.

'You silly fool,' Arvel said. 'Even if I wanted to, d'you think I could? Me arms are stuck!'

'Firstly, I'll cut you out of the webs. Secondly, it's "my", not "me". Learn Cyrodilic," Eilen said, pulling the same elven dagger that killed the Nord bandit out of its sheath. The golden metal glinted in the light from the Doom spell still in her left hand. She slashed through the webs, and Arvel fell onto the ground, spider eggs crunching beneath his somewhat heavy form. As soon as he got up, he made to run.

Eilen clicked her tongue. 'And just where do you think you're going?' she asked, and summoned a wall of flames both behind her and behind Arvel. Her iron armour glinted malevolently in the summoned fire's light.

Eilen's eyes turned a murky orange at first, then a deep crimson.

'I didn't say you could leave,' she said, her voice more deadly, cold and ringing than before.

She raised both her hands, glowing red, and brought them together, and started speaking a different language. Not any language known on Nirn – but Daedric.

'Some good things really come from being one of the Sheogoraths,' she said, a mad glint in her eyes.

'You… you're a Daedric Prince!' Arvel spluttered.

'Was,' Eilen said nonchalantly. 'But, the current Sheogorath and I were on… good speaking terms, shall we say? He let me keep my powers, befitting a former Prince – or rather Lady - of Madness.'

'Spare my life, please!' Arvel started screaming. Immediately, the fire stopped flowing from her hands.

'Don't run,' she said ominously, and then the fires disappeared completely.

Arvel stood stock still, afraid to move an inch, fearing the Daedric side of Eilen.

'Now,' Eilen said, walking slowly towards Arvel the Swift, who started to quiver. 'Give me the claw, or the Daedroth is going to surface again.'

'Daedroth?'

'Singular for "Daedra". Seriously, Arvel. I thought you were on Nirn, not in the ever-great Evergloam,' Eilen said.

Arvel sighed and handed over the claw, his hands shaking. Eilen took the claw in such a way that her fingers touched the palm of his hand. She let a bit of her Daedric powers flow from her fingers.

'Don't steal again, Arvel, I'd hate to have to hunt you down and kill you,' she said.

Arvel ran out of the room in terror. Eilen, however, walked on, holding the solid gold ornament in her hands. She was rather curious about the claw, and decided to walk on.

Eilen stood in front of a huge door with a semi-circular puzzle in the middle. It had three dials, and then under it a keyhole that had not one, nor two, but three slots. Eilen took the claw out of a pouch in her small store-bought knapsack and inspected the claw very closely. It had three circles on it, one under the other, and the pictures engraved in these circles were in this order.

 _Bear, Moth, Owl._

After a while of thinking, Eilen decided to arrange the three dials on the door in that order. She put the claw in the keyhole, and turned it to the right, not being too optimistic.

 _Click._

With a groan of stone against stone, the door slowly opened, with each hollow thump, the door moved down. It took three thumps, and then the door lowered itself into the ground at a faster pace, as if sensing Eilen's impatience to explore the room. After a while longer, Eilen found herself looking into a cavern, and was temporarily held up by bats flying around her and away into the new fresh air they could sense. From what Eilen could see in the distance, there was a huge curved stone wall with an ornate carved top, and a coffin. She walked over the bridge and up the carved stone stairs. The wall had odd engravings on it, and Eilen could actually understand it, it was about someone, a Nord, most probably, who was deceased. Long deceased. As she got closer, one word stood out and glowed. _FORCE,_ it said, whispering in her head, and in the language on the wall, _FUS_.

Eilen's world went dark, and all she could see was a large dragon flying in a red sky full of black storm clouds. The people, in fur clothing, cowered away from it and mothers comforted their wailing children in a melodic and ancient tongue.

Eilen's focus came back when she heard one noise that could stop even the most experienced spelunker's heart.

 _CRACK!_

With a whirl of the deer pelt and Eilen's short dark sand brown hair, she turned around in time to see a sight that would be almost comedic if not for the marked differences in this particular draugr from the others. This one was more muscled, and had a helmet upon its head with the horns sticking straight up, and the eyes glowed with a fiercer blue glow.

The sight that would be comedic is that it looked very much like a person waking up after twelve hours of sleep, patting the sides of their bed to try and find the best way to prop themselves up to get out of the bed and start the day.

This draugr made that simple act look like a demon in a play.

As soon as it was out of its coffin, it clawed at its battle-axe and tried to heave it over its shoulder. It succeeded after a few tries. If it was a normal person in an arena, Eilen would have laughed.

But this was not the place to laugh. This was a dangerous foe.

' _FUS RO DAH_!' the draugr shouted.

' _HOLY TALOS!_ ' Eilen screeched as she was blown away and flew through the air like a rag doll and hit the curved wall, and slid down until she was propped up against it, bringing her hand to the back of her head, where it hit the wall with a rather nasty crack.

The draugr sauntered towards her and started to prepare its killing blow –

 _And toppled to the ground with an arrow in its head._

'Should've been more careful, Eilen,' a _very_ familiar voice said.


	3. THREE: To Whiterun

**LAST TIME**

' _FUS RO DAH_!' the draugr shouted.

' _HOLY TALOS!_ ' Eilen screeched as she was blown away and flew through the air like a rag doll and hit the curved wall, and slid down until she was propped up against it, bringing her hand to the back of her head, where it hit the wall with a rather nasty crack.

The draugr sauntered towards her and started to prepare its killing blow –

 _And toppled to the ground with an arrow in its head._

'Should've been more careful, Eilen,' a _very_ familiar voice said.

 **THIS TIME**

Eilen stared at Hadvar in shock.

'What on Nirn are you doing here, Hadvar?'

He looked somewhat sheepish. 'Would it freak you out if I said I followed you?'

Eilen exploded. 'So you saw everything that I had to fight and you did nothing? What is _wrong_ with you?'

Before Hadvar had a chance to say anything, Eilen stormed off, after quickly looting the chest and the draugr.

'Eilen! Wait!' Hadvar shouted.

'No!' Eilen screeched over her shoulder.

'Listen, I was just trying to help!' Hadvar pleaded, running to catch up with her.

'Stalker!' Eilen screamed and started running.

~

Eilen eventually breathed fresh air. Snow was falling, and it landed on her armour.

'Eilen,' a soft voice said, and Hadvar rested a hand on her shoulder.

Eilen shrugged the hand off.

'I'm sorry,' Hadvar said.

Silence.

'Eilen.'

'I can't believe you.' Eilen's voice was soft and full of pain. She was misled, and she really thought her life would be ended by that draugr at the wall.

'Eilen, how many times must I say I'm sorry?' Hadvar said, his shoulders slumping under his new leather armour.

Eilen turned her green gaze towards Hadvar, and a red aura rippled off of her. Her eyes widened in near-madness.

'As many times as I say ye must,' Eilen said, her sudden Nord accent putting emphasis on the wrong words, and she shrunk in size. Her hair adopted a two-toned streak of viridian and red and grew ever so slightly longer. Her Mer ears turned normal, and her face became more human-like, and her skin tone went an almost luminous pale white. Her skin seemed to glow in the late afternoon sun. She was a Nord now, and she looked mad. Not mad in the sense of angry, just insane.

'Eilen?' Hadvar asked tentatively, wondering if her mage power allowed her to do this level of alteration.

'Eilen has retreated into the recesses of her mind! You are talking to Deirdre! The Lady of Madness! Ha-ha!'

' _The Lady of Madness... History speaks of a hero losing her way... could Eilen be that hero?'_ Hadvar thought to himself.

Deirdre turned her intense yellow eyes to Hadvar.

'Stop starin' or I'll pluck yer eyes out! HA-HA!' Deirdre screamed all the while clapping her hands at a pace a human would not manage.

Before Hadvar could answer, a cold hand with long fingernails grabbed his arm, and the nails pierced him through the sleeve of his leather armour.

'Onwards! Which way is it ta Solitude?' Deirdre exclaimed, pulling him forwards.

Now, Hadvar was not a small Nord, he was full of muscles. To have Deirdre pull Hadvar around like a child's toy was unnerving.

She wasn't wearing her armour anymore, instead she was wearing old silk finery with the two tone trend of her hair, except it was green on one side and red on the other. Her hair was long, and still brown blonde, except for the streak of hair on the right that was red with a swirl of viridian. Hadvar tried to look for similarities between Deirdre and Eilen, Nord and High Elf, but he could not find any. There was not a single similarity, be it the way she walked, talked, behaved or even sounded, except for the colour of the rest of her hair. Deirdre had pushed Eilen to the back of their 'shared' mind, and was fully in control. And Hadvar had no choice but to escort her to Solitude. If he was going to leave the Legion, which Tullius had been speaking about letting him do for two years, he would best get it done as soon as possible.

'I'll show you to Solitude, Lady Deirdre,' Hadvar said almost haltingly.

Eilen – No. Deirdre. Deirdre turned around with a gleeful expression on her face.

'Ye will?' she said, as if expecting a "yes". Somehow, Hadvar thought, both options were "yes". There was no saying 'no' to a Daedric prince, former or not.

~

' _Oh there was once a hero from Alinor, who went to Cyrodiil in a battle-ship_!' Deirdre sang, re-mixing 'Ragnar the Red'. ' _She was part of a snotteh gang called the Thalmor and she was goin' to do some killin' that year_!'

Hadvar didn't want to admit it, but she wasn't fitting the words in well with the actual tune. Yes. Deirdre was playing the tune to 'Ragnar the Red' on a lute. Badly. They were walking in the direction of Solitude. Deirdre apparently despised carriages. They were just past Whiterun now.

The song was a note higher, and slightly faster. Not too fast for Hadvar's eyes to follow her hands when he glanced back at her, though, and she wasn't singing too fast to hear, thankfully. It allowed Hadvar to listen to a song he presumed was about Eilen, who was currently squashed in the back of her own mind.

'Uh, Deirdre,' Hadvar called out from where he was walking in front.

'Yes, escort?' Deirdre said, pausing her song.

'Doesn't it go " _There was once a hero named Ragnar the Red who came riding to Whiterun from ole Rorikstead_ "?'

'I'm trying to compose a song about when Eilen's life got horribleh messed up.' Deirdre's voice was calm and feather-light even after she gave away one of Eilen's life secrets: being part of the Thalmor.

'Eilen was part of the Thalmor?' Hadvar asked.

'Oh, yes. She was just fifty when she joined, can't blame the poor lamb. She left nine years later, she'd received a vision two years prior and couldn't live with being in the Thalmor, and then soon after, was caught. Her snotty cousin reported her missing. If Elenwen hadn't reported her missing, they'd never have known she'd defaulted. After a few days in sweet Cyrodiil, she was caught and thrown in jail. Then by chance, she escaped. With the Emperor and three guards. She started her life anew and fell in love with that Martin fellow,' Deirdre carried on.

'Elenwen? Thalmor Ambassador Elenwen? Scary, evil Elenwen?'

'Why yes,' Deirdre answered as if it were obvious. There was an awkward silence.

'Martin? Martin Septim?' Hadvar mused to himself in a loud-ish murmur, and was greeted by the un-accented voice of Eilen.

'What in Oblivion did Deirdre tell you?' she asked.

Eilen was back.

Eilen, Eilen, _Eilen_! SHE WAS BACK!

He looked around, and, true as Akatosh, the Mer he knew was there, looking at him in a puzzled way.

'Nothing,' he said, and carried on walking.

'I assume you still want to go to Solitude, Lady of Madness?' he asked innocently over his shoulder.

'NO! I want to go to Riverwood, then Whiterun!' Eilen screeched.

'We have to walk _all that way back_?' Hadvar asked in dismay

'YES!' was Eilen's reply as she took off down the path.

~

'Thank you so much for returning the claw to its rightful home! You are always welcome here in the Riverwood Trader, rain or shine, storm or snow! I'll never forget this good deed! Ever!' Lucan said.

The merchant was beside himself with glee. He and Camilla looked at the golden dragon claw with literal sparkles in their eyes.

'And you must have helped our little heroine!' Camilla said, literally hanging off of Hadvar's muscled arms.

'Yeah,' Eilen said sarcastically. The humour was lost on the two Imperials.

'You're such a hero,' Camilla said, still trying to get a measurement of Hadvar's arms so she could gossip about him later in the Sleeping Giant Inn. She knew him well, of course, he lived in Riverwood after all. But now he was "The Hero" who helped "Poor Eilen" retrieve the claw. _Hmph._

~

'Alright,' Eilen said as Lucan handed her a fat coin purse. 'I think we should go if we want to relay a message to the Jarl.'

'We?' Hadvar thought.

'Let's go, buddy,' Eilen said, laying a hand on Hadvar's shoulder, a slight Nord accent coming through.

'Yeah… buddy,' Hadvar said. He hoped no one heard his hesitation to call Eilen buddy when Deirdre threatened to come to play. He didn't want a mad Daedric Lord in the Riverwood Trader… Especially since Eilen had such a good reputation there. He didn't want to put that good reputation in danger by having Eilen turn into Deirdre.

~

'What was that?' Eilen asked as soon as they were on the other side of the arch that was 'the end' of Riverwood.

'What was what?' Hadvar asked in reply.

'You and that… Imperial! You let her hang off of your arms like they were monkey bars!' Eilen said.

'Firstly, if you had looked at my face, and not my biceps like Camilla had, you'd see my discomfort. Secondly, why did you almost let Deirdre out?' Hadvar retorted.

'I was acting, Hadvar. I can do that, you know,' Eilen snapped back.

Hadvar had no response for that.

'Thought so. Let's go to Whiterun, Nord. Maybe we can get some proper wine there,' Eilen said, spinning on her heel and walking up the path.

~

 **A carriage flashback- Cheydinhal, during the Oblivion Crisis, 3E 433**

'Eilen, I think I'm going to die,' Martin said to her as they walked through the streets of Cheydinhal, the cobblestones, those even and neat cobblestones illuminated by the light of the full moon.

'Don't say that, Martin. You'll be the greatest Emperor ever, possibly even better than your father,' Eilen said, laying her hands on his shoulders.

'But I'm not. I was the son of a farmer, then I was a priest. Now I am a Dragonborn Emperor of Tamriel – or a son of one. I feel unworthy since I was a child born out of the bonds of matrimony,' Martin lamented.

'Martin, you will be loved and celebrated. You won't die. You will kick Mehrunes' posterior and save Tamriel from that red many-armed lobster face with horns. You'll have me at your side too,' she said in a soft voice. Martin kissed her forehead.

'I know, Lady Elsinfaere, and I appreciate that. But, when the time comes, I fear I must shatter the Amulet of Kings.' Martin took the Amulet out of his satchel, and looked at it as if it was the living embodiment of Dagon himself.

'Martin…' Eilen said in horror. 'Who told you that?'

'It came to me in a dream – I know not how, but I fear I had a vision. The person had a honey sweet voice and sounded strong and sure, gentle yet commanding. I fear it was Talos, or even Akatosh himself. I don't know the outcome of this battle, but, Eilen, I'd like you to know how much I love you,' he said, looking into Eilen's green eyes, his blue eyes (which came from his father) were bright and burning into her soul.

That made her think of her own vision, three years prior, when she was fifty-seven, a mere youth by Altmer standards. Dibella and the other Divines had bestowed a blessing upon her. She told Martin about it.She found herself absorbed in the past.

~

'You shall be beautiful and live a long life – you who has a heart so large and the inner beauty of the most beautiful wood nymph. I call you my Wandering Sybil, and thus shall you spread beauty throughout Tamriel.' Dibella had touched honey scented hands on Eilen's face as Mara spoke next.

'You shall spread love through Tamriel and be loved by all, especially the men-folk,' she said with a devious giggle. 'You shall be loved by many, I can see it written in the book of your future.'

'You shall be strong and fair, and all will trust your judgment,' Stendarr said, smiling at her.

'You shall be known as a Hero all your life, and shall be revered for all your heroic acts,' Talos said.

'You shall have a long life, untouched by time for many centuries, many more than a usual Altmer's life, and since it is not Dibella's gift to give, I bestow it upon you officially, Eilen Elsinfaere.' Arkay's voice was soft and strong.

'I bestow upon you the soul of the mighty dragon and my own blood, any other gift I could give you pales in comparison with the one I bestow upon you now.' Akatosh looked like a large dragon, and flickered occasionally into a tall blond man with golden eyes that looked as if they had seen the world time and time again.

'Nature shall be kind to you, and, you can summon any animal in your time of need. You shall always find what you need in my domain, Hero,' Kynareth said, her soft and long green hair flowing behind her back.

'You shall be wise, child, and many will come to you seeking wisdom,' said Julianos, taking a step closer to Eilen and touching a hand to her face. Dibella and Mara had moved away as each Divine stepped forward. He stepped back.

'You shall be able to touch your hand to the ground and find any pocket of ore or precious gem. You shall have a silver tongue with anyone, especially merchants, and always get the best prices whenever you trade.' Zenithar was tall, regal and proud, and his voice was rich and deep.

'We call you our Hero of All Time and wish to have you help all in need, Eilen Elsinfaere,' all the Divines said as one, their voices blending in amazingly to make them sound like a choir of angels.

~

'Eilen?' Martin asked, breaking her out of her past. 'You have been blessed by the Divines?'

'Cursed,' Eilen said with a dry mouth. 'They thought I was capable and worthy. I say nay! I was with the Thalmor, they who cause so much trouble to Tamriel! I deserted them, and I almost became a thief and a murderer! I do not deserve any of their praise or gifts!'

'You can hardly be cursed, my dear. For you are the best thing that has happened to my life, ever since I saw you in the chapel of Kvatch.'

Martin leaned closer and touched his lips to hers.

'Eilen, are you alright?' Hadvar said, placing a hand on her knee. They managed to find a cart, which Eilen thanked the Divines who had 'cursed' her for that.

'No, I'm not. Flashback.' Eilen's voice was miles away as she recalled how realistic the touch of each Divine felt as they each touched her face to bestow their blessings upon her.

'You spoke in your daydream,' Hadvar said. 'What is this "curse" about?'

'Nothing I care to speak about at this point in time,' Eilen said haughtily. She leaned closer to Hadvar. 'I'll tell you when we are in Whiterun close to sweetrolls.'

'You and your sweetrolls,' Hadvar snorted, rolling his eyes at Eilen.

~

 **4E 201, Whiterun, The Bannered Mare**

It was dawn. Eilen had told Hadvar the whole story about her life in a silent corner in The Bannered Mare, how she lived for thirty years outside of time as the Lady of Madness, but how she still counted those years as part of her life. Eilen just couldn't get to sleep, though. It was as if everything she had done in life was for nothing, and she could no longer hug Martin, for even if he wasn't assassinated, she'd have outlived him anyway. She would be young and beautiful as Martin lay on his deathbed, old and grey. At least one good thing had come from a doomed marriage. Her daughter.

She walked barefoot across the hall to Hadvar's room and slowly turned the door handle.

'Hadvar?' she said softly.

'Hm?' was the response, and as Eilen's eyes adjusted to the candle light, she could see Hadvar, sitting close to a candle reading history books.

'The Hero of Kvatch to Champion of Cyrodiil' was the one book Hadvar was paying more attention to. He was reading with much concentration, whereas whenever he glanced at other history books, it was merely that – a glance.

'Couldn't sleep either?' Eilen asked with a sarcastic edge to her voice.

'No. Your history was interesting and I decided to read up on it,' Hadvar said, waving a hand towards the many rolls of parchment, apple cores and glass apple juice bottles scattered across his bed.

'Hulda will have your head if the room is in this state when we leave, Hadvar. We should get this mess cleaned up.'

Hadvar looked up and Eilen could see dark circles under his eyes.

'Something tells me this is your third all-nighter in a row,' Eilen said, looking at Hadvar closely to see if she could spot any more signs of tiredness.

'In the Legion, I spent five days in a small siege, not sleeping once. Not even for a second. If the General saw me with my eyes closed for more than thirty seconds, I was doused with ice water.' Hadvar's tone was sad, as if he felt he could have spent those years of his life in a much better way – fighting for his land's freedom or farming close to Riverwood.

'Poor you,' Eilen said with almost sincere pity. Almost.

Hadvar sighed and started delicately rolling up the sheets of parchment his notes were written on.

~

A few minutes later, the mess in Hadvar's room was sorted, all evidence of his studying erased. They were walking through Whiterun to the Jarl's palace – Dragonsreach.

A Dunmer started stalking over to where they were once they were inside and up the flight of stairs.

'Who are you two, and what business do you have with the Jarl Balgruuf the Greater?' she asked the duo in a threatening voice.

'We seek to talk to the Jarl – we have news from Helgen, about the dragon attack.' Eilen used the silver tongue provided to her by Zenithar to get her way. To get past the guards at the door, she had used Dibella's gift to make the guards let them through even though it was early, not yet 'consulting hours'.

The Dunmer hummed. 'Then the Jarl will want to see you personally,' she said, her voice suddenly not so harsh. 'This way.'

'Zenithar, hey?' Hadvar murmured as they followed the housecarl. The way his voice sounded when it was lowered… it was like melted butter.

'Yeah,' she said. A little breathless. Breathe, Eilen.

Hadvar smiled at Eilen. If not for her Divine gifts, they wouldn't have an audience with the Jarl – or maybe they would, but it would've taken much longer to get past the guards. She was a very attractive elf, not all angular and bony like most Altmer, and she was slightly shorter than most Altmer females. He still had to look up to look Eilen in the eyes, though.

'I hear you have news of Helgen and the dragon,' the Jarl said as soon as they stood before him.

'Aye, that we do,' Hadvar said, kneeling. Eilen did not.

'I had a very good view of the attack while the Imperials were trying to kill me,' she said, her eyes blazing and turning slightly yellow.

Hadvar noticed this and grabbed her hand, and squeezed it so she could calm down – he didn't want her turning into her Daedric Lord form.

'You are rather forward about your criminal past,' Balgruuf said, his accent slightly lilting.

'I have no criminal past here, or in Cyrodiil,' Eilen hissed, a slight Nord accent coming through in her voice.

'Eilen,' Hadvar whispered. 'Calm down.'

Eilen took a deep, shuddering breath. Her eyes turned green again.

'Then why were you on a cart to Helgen,' the Imperial man next to Balgruuf said in a mocking tone. 'My Jarl – we do not know if she is lying, she could be a Stormcloak spy or a bandit!'

Eilen's hands started quivering and shaking. Hadvar squeezed her hand slightly harder.

'I was wrongfully accused of something a friend did here a year ago! She used my name, but died of poisoning a week later. I did nothing wrong,' Eilen hissed, her hand getting smaller. It turned cold and her fingernails dug into his hand. Hadvar pulled her closer and said, 'Excuse this,' and hugged her and stroked her short brown blonde hair. 'Calm down, Eilen, calm down.' He remembered a song that was long left not sung, his mother had learned it from a friend in the Bards' College, and murmured some of the words to her. It seemed fitting with the dragons around. It was the Song of the Dragonborn, and it was the first thing that came to his mind, especially since he suspected Eilen might be the Dragonborn they needed, and which he really thought was true, after hearing about Akatosh's blessing.

'Ahrk fin Kel lost prodah, do ved viing do fin krah. Tol fod zeymah win kein meyz fundein. Alduin, feyn do jun, kruziik vokun staadnau, voth aan bahlok wah diivon fin lein, nuz aan sul, fent alok, fod fin vul dovah nok, fen kos nahlot mahfaeraak ahrk ruz. Paaz Keizaal fen kos stin nol bein Alduin jot, Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin, naal ok zin los vahriin, wah dein, vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal ahrk fin norok paal graan fod nust hon zindro zaan, Dovahkiin, fah hin, kogaan mu draal…' His voice was soft and Eilen soon calmed down.

'What does that mean?' Eilen asked, her unaccented voice calm and soft. Balgruuf harrumphed.

'I'll tell you later.' Hadvar's voice was still soft.

'Sorry about that,' Eilen said, turning to look at Balgruuf. 'There is something Hadvar and I would like to warn you about, but in private.'

Irileth – the Dunmer housecarl – protested.

'Fine, Irileth can come too. We need to know we can trust you with this crucial information,' Hadvar said hastily, for he had noticed Irileth's hand move towards her sword.

Balgruuf stood up and moved up the stairs to his right, Irileth following. Hadvar and Eilen moved too, Hadvar not letting go of Eilen's hand. Proventus, the Jarl's steward, looked on in betrayal and disgust. Betrayal that Balgruuf had not insisted on his presence and disgust at Hadvar holding Eilen's hand.

'We're alone. What do you need to tell me?' Balgruuf asked Hadvar and Eilen.

'You know of the Hero of Kvatch, right?' Eilen asked.

'Yes. The Hero who closed the Oblivion gates and helped Emperor Martin Septim light the Dragonfires,' Irileth answered for Balgruuf, who nodded.

'You know she was… an Elf?' Eilen asked in a small voice.

'Yes, her name was…' Irileth's voice trailed off with a gasp. 'Eilen Elsinfaere! You are the Hero of Kvatch, the Champion of Cyrodiil!'

Balgruuf went white and bowed. Irileth curtseyed, which looked odd in her leather armour.

Eilen shuddered. She wasn't expecting this reaction to her status.

'The Hero also underwent a change when she solved the mystery of the mysterious gate off in the Niben Bay,' Hadvar said. 'She became the next Sheogorath, or in Eilen's case, she turned into a mad Nord named Deirdre. She comes out to "play" when Eilen gets angry or stressed, so the whole thing back there was to prevent a mad Nord running around threatening to pluck eyes out.'

'That would definitely be a problem – and how would we explain an elf turning into a Nord?' Irileth said sceptically.

Balgruuf nodded. 'Hero of Kvatch – I mean the Champion of Cyrodiil, your secret is safe with me. Now. Let's have dinner together. I'm sure Proventus can get you two comfortable clothes and organize a bath so you two can freshen up for dinner,' he said. Eilen sighed in bliss. A warm bath was being promised to her after nearly threatening the entire court by almost turning into Deirdre.

'I must find a way to prevent the near-transformation of Eilen,' Hadvar thought as he looked at Eilen's happy face as she talked to the Dunmer housecarl. 'She needs peace.'

~

 _So, what do you think so far? I know some things should be in italics (ahem the Song of the Dragonborn extract Hadvar murmured) but I'm operating off the_ FanFiction _app and I'm too lazy to retype it because when I move it over from my Microsoft Office Word app, it doesn't keep the formatting and I have to go **all** the way through and retype the things in italics. Another thing that should've been in italics is where Martin and Eilen talk, and Eilen's flashback-within-a-flashback should be in bold italics. But I'm the lazy author today._

 _Also, who likes the idea of Elenwen and Eilen being related? It just popped into my head. Where Eilen has the hero heritage on her mother's side of the family (the Saelinlocks giving Tamriel heroes like the Vestige and the Nerevarine) and the Elsinfaeres being a snooty noble family, and thankfully Eilen has more Saelinlock traits than Elsinfaere traits._

 _Also, to clarify a bit on chapter one, she used her daughter's name and mother's maiden name as a pseudonym. Also, where she said to Ralof that she wondered what Skyrim would be like, peaceful, and without her first introduction to the country being on the way to the chopping block, she **was lying to keep up appearances as an Altmer traveller.** She didn't want anyone to put two and two together that she'd been in Skyrim before, just in case people knew she'd been in love with Ulfric. I hope this clarifies some stuffs._

 _Read and review!_

 _Sparkles._


	4. FOUR: In Whiterun: Eilen the Dragonborn?

**LAST TIME**

Balgruuf nodded. 'Hero of Kvatch – I mean the Champion of Cyrodiil, your secret is safe with me. Now. Let's have dinner together. I'm sure Proventus can get you two comfortable clothes and organize a bath so you two can freshen up for dinner,' he said. Eilen sighed in bliss. A warm bath was being promised to her after nearly threatening the entire court by almost turning into Deirdre.

'I must find a way to prevent the near-transformation of Eilen,' Hadvar thought as he looked at Eilen's happy face as she talked to the Dunmer housecarl. 'She needs peace.'

 **THIS TIME**

'Miss Elsinfaere,' a soft voice said at her door. 'I have brought your iron armour from Warmaiden's. It has been fixed and polished and engraved with the symbol of Whiterun, signifying you as Jarl Balgruuf's friend.'

'You may come in,' Eilen said as she fastened the laces of her off-the-shoulder blue dress with the leather corset. The skirt's customary apron was removed, leaving her with the maroon skirt in full view. Her short and comfortable brown boots looked as if they had the symbol of Radiant Raiment on it, which made her think ' _Valuable clothes... Nice._ '

The Breton maid walked into the room and placed the armour on the small table by the door. 'Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes, milady,' she said in a kind tone of voice that seemed a bit out of practice. Something was obviously bothering the maid, and it had been going on for a while. Eilen noticed her eyes were red.

'What's wrong, friend?' Eilen asked, not knowing her name.

'Nothing,' the maid said evasively.

'Sit, friend, and tell me your troubles,' she said, using Stendarr's gift. She sat down on a chair and the maid sat down too.

'What is your name, friend?' Eilen asked.

'Fianna,' the Breton said. She sighed and ran a hand through her white hair – even though she was not old, it was as white as snow. 'It's nothing, really. Just wondering how my family is in High Rock,' she said.

'Come now, Fianna. It most certainly can't be nothing if you've been crying,' Eilen soothed.

'Alright,' Fianna said, tears welling up in her eyes. 'My brother is sick, and my family has fallen on hard times – that's why I'm here in Skyrim, working as a maid. But I don't have enough money to go travellin' to Solitude an' take a ship to High Rock,' she wailed. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she wept. Eilen noticed the scars – where did the scars come from?

'I'll talk to the Jarl to let you take leave and I'll pay for your passage to Solitude and High Rock. I'll even pay for a guard to accompany you,' Eilen said, wiping the tears away from the young Breton's eyes.

'Why do you care so much, Miss Elsinfaere?' Fianna asked through her tears.

'We are kin, Fianna. High Elves are related to Bretons through blood, so I feel sad that one of my own have fallen on hard times,' Eilen replied.

'You are unlike any Altmer I've ever met,' Fianna said with a short laugh. She smiled, and Eilen rejoiced in the fact that the small Breton was finally happy.

'Thank you Miss Elsinfaere!' Fianna said gleefully and hugged Eilen.

'No problem,' Eilen replied, and added 'And call me Eilen.'

The Breton maid bowed before leaving.

'Thank you, Eilen,' she said, respectfully.

~

'Could you pass me the fire salts, Eilen?' Hadvar asked for the second time that evening. Farengar snorted. 'Lay off the fire salts a little, friend. You'll regret it later.' His voice was respectful but joking.

Eilen's hand was moving the fire salts back and forth in the air. 'Want it?' she said, moving it towards him. 'Or not?' she said, moving it towards her plate.

' _Not_ ,' Hadvar said, going pale. 'I'll settle for the normal salt instead. Could you pass that to me, rather?'

Eilen smirked and handed him the wooden bowl of normal sea salt. 'Here you go,' she said, winking at him. Hadvar flushed all the way into the collar of his doublet. Irileth sniggered. This was going to be an interesting dinner, indeed.

'So,' the Jarl said, looking at Eilen. 'How did you get to Skyrim?'

'I walked,' Eilen said simply. Hadvar nearly dropped his fork. Irileth almost choked on her apple cabbage stew. Dagny looked mortified. Frothar looked at her in an admiring way. Nelkir stared into space with his normal glare. Proventus actually spluttered, almost losing the bread he was gnawing on. Hrongar grinned a grin so large his face could've split in half. Balgruuf just smiled and gave a light laugh.

'It's good to see an elf that doesn't expect bowing and scraping and carts and horses,' he said, looking at her with nothing but approval.

'I walked from Bravil,' Eilen said, looking carefully at Hadvar. 'I walked all the way to Darkwater Crossing in exploration. I recently got my enchanted backpack back from the ruins of Helgen, by the way. I went for an early morning walk. Thank the Divines it wasn't discovered for what it was and sold.'

'This backpack,' Irileth said, ignoring the "early morning walk". Eilen was an odd person, even for an Altmer. 'Why is it so important to you?'

'Martin gave it to me,' Eilen answered, looking forlorn.

'Martin?' Dagny asked.

'Martin Septim, last Dragonborn emperor of Cyrodiil.' Eilen's voice caught on "last."

This got Nelkir's attention.

Dagny dropped her soup spoon.

'Gee, lady! You're quite old! But you don't look old,' he said. He added the last upon receiving a soft hiss from Irileth.

'We Altmer live long lives,' Eilen said evasively. Then she dipped her small loaf of bread into her apple cabbage stew.

'Nelkir,' Dagny said in a soothing tone – which Eilen had not expected from her, as Eilen saw Dagny as a spoiled brat. 'You never comment on a lady's age,' she said sternly. 'No matter how brave or strong they look,' she added, looking admiringly at Eilen.

'Thank you, Dagny,' Irileth said approvingly.

Dagny smiled.

'Miss Elsinfaere,' Fianna said softly.

'Yes, Fianna?' Eilen said, turning in her chair to see the Breton maid escorting a courier to the table.

'This courier said he needed to see you urgently. I tried to tell him you were busy eating dinner, but he insisted to see you. He needs to leave Whiterun soon,' she said.

'Alright,' Eilen said upon receiving a nod from the Jarl. 'Bring him here.'

'Miss Elsinfaere,' the courier said. 'I have something to deliver, and it's urgent. Red envelope and all.' His voice was timid, and he spoke very fast – as if scurrying from place to place had an effect on his general speed.

He handed her not one, but two red envelopes, bowed to the assembled court and scurried out of Dragonsreach.

'Miss Elsinfaere, you may be excused if you wish,' the Jarl said upon seeing her face go deathly pale. 'I'll have Fianna bring your second course and dessert to you in your room.'

'Thank you, my Jarl,' she said, her voice shaking, and rising shakily from her chair. She walked unsteadily to her room, and as soon as she was in her room and the door was closed, she ran to her bed and tore the one open.

'Miss Elsinfaere.

It is with deep regret that I inform you of your granddaughter's death. The Thalmor found her guilty of being one third Imperial and two thirds Altmer and executed her.

I hope you are well and I am sorry for your loss. She has been buried in your family's cemetery in Bruma.

Termna Aediath, your Steward of Rosethorn Manor.'

Eilen's tears fell freely. Eilen's own granddaughter, one of the last with Septim blood. The other being her daughter, born many years ago. Such a young Altmer, her granddaughter Alwya, only ninety. Not even married or in a relationship. She opened the next one with shaking hands.

'Miss Elsinfaere.

I have more bad news. The Thalmor raided the house yesterday – and almost killed me looking for you. They want to kill you for deserting the Dominion twice, and almost found out Joarelie's location. I thank Auri-El that they have not. She sent word telling me to tell you that she is where "skies shine with green and blue."

Termna Aediath, your Steward of Rosethorn Manor.'

Eilen screamed. Joarelie was in Skyrim, and there was no telling which hold she was in. She was beautiful, more Altmer than Imperial, but she had Martin's personality and had his blue eyes. There was also the chance of her being the Dragonborn everyone was babbling about – the one who could save Skyrim from the World Eater, Alduin.If the Thalmor had intercepted this letter... Eilen shuddered.

Eilen couldn't let that happen. Eilen wanted to find her and ship her off to Akavir, where cherry blossom trees bloomed and the Akaviri lived peacefully. Hidden from people for hundreds of years, but peaceful. If Joarelie told them she was descended from a Dragonborn, they would surely protect her. Wouldn't they?

Eilen didn't realise she had fallen asleep until she woke up, cradled in Hadvar's arms.

'Hadvar?' Eilen asked. 'Did you read my letters?'

Hadvar nodded gravely and hugged her tighter.

'I mourn the loss of your granddaughter,' he said sadly.

'I am sorry I didn't tell you about my family. I just didn't see the point – they were both in Cyrodiil, safe from me. Turns out Alwya wasn't,' she said, glaring at the red envelopes.

'I didn't know Elenwen, almighty Ambassador of Skyrim was your cousin,' Hadvar said.

'She's the… First… Emissary, if I'm not mistaken. Not an ambassador.'

'Same difference,' Hadvar said and looked at Eilen.

'Joarelie… You used your daughter's name as an alias. Where did "Saelinlock" come from?'

'My mother. Her maiden name,' Eilen said.

'It's time to be off. Don your armour, pack your backpacks. I'll tell the Jarl we're leaving,' Hadvar said, kissing Eilen's forehead.

~

'You shouldn't get involved in a human's life, Eilen,' Deirdre hissed.

'You have no idea what I am going through, Daedroth. And you never will. It's not like you lost your granddaughter a few days ago.'

'Ah, but that is where you're wrong,' Deirdre said, and Eilen could hear the grin in her voice. 'For, you see, I am you and you are me.'

'Shut up. I am not in the mood for your mind games, Deirdre.'

'Suit yerself, Yer Majesteh. Suit yerself.'

Eilen's eyes became focussed again as Deirdre left her alone. Hadvar was looking at the scenery, the wind blowing through his short brown hair. The cart driver was taking them to Solitude, where Hadvar would officially leave the Legion on good terms.

He didn't notice her looking at him, so she carried on. The way he looked at the tundra cotton plants along the road and how he looked at each tree and house and mine they passed was full of interest, and Eilen found herself looking at Hadvar in that exact way.

'See something you like?' Hadvar said, smirking, not looking away from Skyrim's landscape.

'Maybe,' Eilen said. The carriage driver giggled. Eilen blushed and looked away.

' **Eilen,** ' a voice said, which was awfully familiar. And nearby. 'I am sorry about Alwya. '

Martin.

'How are you speaking to me, Martin?'

'Why, I am right next to you.'

Eilen gasped. Hadvar's head spun around to look at the new passenger. Martin was there in his priest robes, his arm draped over Eilen's shoulder.

'Great,' Hadvar murmured.

Eilen was close to tears. 'How…?' she asked.

'Father Akatosh,' he said simply. Then he kissed her hand.

'It is good to be back, even if I don't know how long I have.'

~

'Molag! Stop spyin' on 'er!' Sanguine screeched. 'She's mine, but she doesn't know it yet!'

'No way,' a soft, melodic voice said. 'She will complete my quest first.'

'Shut it, Azura. No one cares about your _Star_!'

'Speak for yourself, Miss Kilkreath-Temple-Is-Cursed-By-Necromancers!' Mephala shouted back at Meridia.

'My Beacon was stolen!' Meridia barked.

'MY CHAMPION IS A WUSS!' Boethiah screamed.

'MY MACE SITS RUSTED IN AN ABANDONED HOUSE!'

'WHERE'S MY LADY?' a Bosmer in rags shouted.

'In Skyrim,' all the Daedra Lords said in unison.

Silence. The Bosmer left.

'SILUS ISN'T DOING THE MYTHIC DAWN ANY JUSTICE!' Dagon screamed, breaking the silence.

'My Blade is hidden in Dragonsreach... And Nelkir is being stupid.'

'BARBAS RAN AWAY **_AGAIN!_** '

'TOO MANY MEN DREAM ABOUT MARRYING EILEN!' Vaermina shouted, her purple hands rubbing her temples.

'I wish I were stronger,' Malacath said softly.

'NO ONE CARES!' Hermaeus Mora shouted. 'I hold Miraak in my grasp! The FIRST DRAGONBORN!'

'Eilen is not a CANNIBAL!!' Namira screamed in dismay.

'CHEESE!' Deirdre screamed.

'YOU'RE MEANT TO BE IN SKYRIM!' Nocturnal exclaimed.

'She doesn't wish to be a werewolf in my realm…' Hircine growled.

'Eilen shows no interest in Skyrim's Thieves Guild… I _need_ her to kill Mercer Frey,' Nocturnal muttered.

'Eilen's almost completely immune to diseases,' Peryite said mournfully.

'Oh, shut up, Peryite!' all the Daedra said.

Deirdre morphed into the original 'Sheo look'.

'Sorry, lads,' Sheo said. 'Eilen told me to go away. Cheese for everyone! Eat and be merry! Or I'll pluck yer eyes out! Ha-ha! Or would you prefer _Eldaon_?'

'There is no order or intelligence in this place,' a soft male voice said from the corner. Jyggalag.

~

'Lady Mara, your tea,' a handmaiden said.

'Thank you,' Mara replied, looking into the looking glass. She touched a finger to it, and it became a screen with which she could look upon Eilen. Her blessing was going strong – people loved Eilen.

' _Eilen? Are you okay_?' Martin was asking as Eilen wept uncontrollably, Hadvar looking on in pity and sorrow.

' _No,_ ' Eilen said in between sobs.

'Mara, Talos is trying to… Hey. Are you spying on Eilen Elsinfaere _again_?' Dibella said, walking in.

'Yes. And what is Talos trying to do?' Mara replied, brushing her long dark hair before putting her headdress on.

'He's trying to get me to wear clothes. Isn't this alright anymore?' Dibella said mournfully, looking at the cloth wrapped around her body. The white flower in her handshining with a soft light.

'Definitely not,' Akatosh said. He was walking down the passage when he heard Dibella and Mara talking. He spied the screen. 'Oh, Mara. Why?'

'I'm having fun,' Mara said archly. 'Besides, weren't _you_ curious too?'

'I can't speak for Akatosh, but I can certainly speak for myself,' an accented voice lilted from the corner. Julianos had randomly appeared out of the blue again.

All the Divines in the room got a fright.

'I am curious.' Julianos' voice was a slow, lilting monotone with a musical quality to it.

'Oh, why don't _all_ the Divines just invade my room?!' Mara screamed, straightening her headdress and rubbing her temples.

'I can certainly help there,' Zenithar said. 'Whassup?'

'Don't speak like those teenage Imperials, please, Zenithar,' Talos said.

'Florentius, _don't_ go there,' Arkay said, walking down the passage holding an amulet to his temple. 'No. **_No_**!' he carried on. ' _Fine_ ,' he sighed. 'Go into the dungeon, Florentius. It makes _no_ difference.'

Stendarr walked through the screen. Mara, Dibella, Talos, Zenithar and Akatosh all groaned when the image distorted. They cheered when it came back. Stendarr looked over his shoulder and uttered a single word. ' _Oops_.'

' _LOK VAH KOOR_!' Kynareth shouted from the roof. Kynareth was clearing the skies. Mara hadn't noticed it was raining. She was grateful, though. Now that she looked closer, the image was much clearer. The rain and thunder was distorting the image.

Kynareth floated delicately into the room, her white and blue rock warbler on her arm and a sly smile on her face. 'Spying on Lady Elsinfaere _again_?'

'Kynareth. _Look_. Who let Martin back into Nirn?' Mara asked, waving her hand wildly at the looking glass. 'He's messed up Eilen's whole thing with Had-what's-his-face!'

' _Hadvar_.' Akatosh's voice was stern as he corrected Mara. 'And _I_ let him back into Nirn. His granddaughter died a few days ago, for goodness' sake!'

' ** _WHY_**?' all the Divines shouted.

'What do you want me to do?' Akatosh roared, slowly morphing into a golden dragon. 'Eilen was torn up over losing most of the people she loved in the last century or so.'

'Don't you see it's tearing her up even more?' Dibella asked, stabbing a finger at the image.

'That doesn't mean you can just… _Zap_ someone back to life!' Kynareth said, her voice never raising above a whisper. The rock warbler chirped something and Kynareth stifled a giggle. Akatosh chose to ignore that. It was obviously a snarky comment.

'What do we do now?' Zenithar lamented. 'We can't just say "you're the ten-thousandth winner! Here! Your deceased Imperial Dragonborn Emperor husband is now alive!'

'I say we just roll with it,' Julianos said, copying Zenithar's speech.

Mara exploded. 'I tried to get her together with Hadvar!' she said, stabbing a finger at Akatosh. 'You ruined it!'She turned to Zenithar and Julianos. 'And you two! Stop speaking like that!'

Zenithar harrumphed. Julianos looked ashamed. Akatosh's golden eyes blazed.

'What else do you want? My express written apology?' Akatosh said.

'That would be nice,' Mara hissed. She tapped the mirror again, and the image disappeared. 'Now out,' she said.

~

'It's not Akatosh's right to let someone come back from the dead,' Eilen said. 'It's Arkay's.'

'I know that,' Martin said, his voice faltering.

'Then what?' Eilen said. Hadvar looked at them in what Eilen thought was jealousy. Eilen was sitting in Martin's arms, crying.

'The prophecy speaks of the Last Dragonborn. I come here as a messenger. Alwya was not the Dragonborn, and neither is Joarelie. Even though they share my blood, they are not full Dragonborn. They cannot absorb a dragon's soul.

'So they brought you back so you can kill Alduin?'

'No. I came to tell you that the operation you went through when you were kidnapped worked, in all its actual uselessness due to Akatosh's gift. You are the Last Dragonborn of legend. You, and you alone, can kill Alduin and save the world.' And with that, he was gone.

~

They arrived in Whiterun at midnight. Eilen pleaded with Hadvar to let them go back to Whiterun after he left the Legion. He eventually said they could.

'We need an inn,' Eilen said. 'There's no way the Jarl would be awake at this time of night.'

They rented two rooms in the Bannered Mare, and the next day, Eilen sprinted to Dragonsreach in full iron armour. Her new greatsword swung at her back as she ran up the stairs.

'Jarl Balgruuf!' she shouted. He was talking to Farengar and a Breton in shrouded clothing.

'Are you sure it's in Bleak Falls Barrow?' the Jarl was saying. As soon as he heard Eilen's voice, he turned around.

'Eilen,' the Jarl said in surprise. 'What is the matter?'

She couldn't tell them about what Martin said. She needed an excuse for her bout of madness. She fished something out of her backpack. 'This is for Farengar. I forgot to give it to him,' she smiled wryly.

The Breton in the corner sucked in a large and deep breath. 'That's it,' she said. Her voice sounded familiar. 'That's the Dragonstone of Bleak Falls,' she said in an awed whisper.

'Jarl Balgruuf! Farengar!' Irileth called. 'I need you two over here!'

They left the Breton and Eilen behind.

' _Delphine_? What on Nirn do you have to do with this whole dragon business?' she asked the Breton.

'Nothing,' Delphine said. 'And you don't either. So get out of my face.'

' _Fine_ ,' Eilen said as she heard Irileth call her. 'This isn't over,' she hissed, pointing at Delphine.

She walked up the stairs to the room where she had told the Jarl not too long ago about who she really was. A young guard was there, urgently describing a dragon. Eilen listened with half an ear.

'I need your help again, Champion of Cyrodiil,' Balgruuf said.

'I'd be honoured to help,' Eilen said, 'where do you need me to go?'

'The Western Watchtower,' Balgruuf said. The way he said it made Eilen auto-capitalise the words in her head.

'Then to the Western Watchtower I shall go,' Eilen said. She turned to Hadvar. 'Feel like coming with me?' She grinned, and Hadvar found himself grinning too.

'Why not,' he said, rolling his shoulder. He was still getting used to his newest set of leather armour He missed his Legion armour – it was comfortable, and familiar. But he had left that life behind to be near the Mer with the Talos earring he had fallen hopelessly in love with.

'You do realise you'll be killing a dragon, right?' the young guard asked Eilen incredulously.

'I realise that,' Eilen said, grin growing wider. 'I happen to be the Champion of Cyrodiil. If I can beat powerful Daedra, then I can certainly try to kill a dragon.'

The guard shook his head. He took his helmet off and ran a shaky hand through his blond hair.

'I'm not going back there,' he said, voice quivering. 'Sweet mother Mara, I am _not_ going back.' His deep blue eyes were wide with terror.

'No one expects you to, Arn,' Irileth said in a soothing voice that Eilen never expected to hear from such a "macho" Dunmer.

'Go to the Bannered Mare,' the Jarl said, handing Arn a coin purse. 'Get some proper Nord ale, and some stew. You need it, lad.'

The guard nodded his thanks, bowed, and scurried out of the room. Irileth looked at his retreating form anxiously. Hrongar looked on and simply said, 'young love,' with a grin on his face as Eilen and Hadvar ran out of Dragonsreach, hand-in-hand.

~

' _NO_! _Get back_! Hroki and Tor were just grabbed by that… That beast!' a limping guard using his war-hammer as a makeshift crutch said, hobbling out of the watchtower.

'I'm here to help,' Eilen called out, running up the ramp made of rubble and displaced dirt.

'What could you possibly do against a dragon, Elf?' he asked sceptically.

Eilen shoved a piece of parchment into the guard's free hand.

"Champion of Cyrodiil, Eilen Elsinfaere, and mail can be sent via courier or sent to her holiday home in Anvil. Or through the portal in the Niben Bay. Tell the gate guard you're looking for Deirdre."

The guard scoffed as he read it. The Champion of Cyrodiil was an elf? That was never mentioned in the history books he ever read.

'Go right ahead,' he said. 'If the dragon kills you, it'll be your fault.'

Eilen climbed the stairs, feeling the cobblestones as she went along. The stones were warm, and in some places on the grass outside, there were flames.

When Eilen and Hadvar reached the top of the tower, Eilen squinted at the sky.

'Whatever was here is gone now,' she said. Hadvar looked at her, an eyebrow raised.

'Don't let that hear you,' a guard said, looking off to the east. Something was there, alright. Eilen and Hadvar looked east, and watched in horror as the dragon flew towards them.

~

'Hadvar! Look out!' Eilen screeched as the dragon prepared to roast him. Hadvar rolled out of the way just in time, but the guard behind him, however, did not.

Eilen yelled a harsh battle cry as she sprinted towards the dragon, greatsword prepared for a deadly blow to the dragon's head. She froze as he looked at her – those eyes full of unknown wisdom.

' _Dovahkiin!_ NO!' he shouted as the Altmer delivered the killing blow. With a heavy heart, Eilen stabbed her greatsword into the ground, and looked solemnly at the dragon's corpse.

'You didn't have to die today, mister dragon,' she said sadly. She jumped as the dragon's body began to burn, the scales flaking off and disintegrating in the air. A multi-coloured swirl of raw power separated itself from the dragon's very bones as it spiralled towards her.

'Get back, Champion!' Irileth shouted, her voice hoarse. 'The dragon's making a last move before it dies completely!'

Eilen, on the other hand, was completely serene as all this was happening. The spiral of power hit her square in the chest, and she went blind temporarily, just as she had in Bleak Falls Barrow. The word _fus_ suddenly held more meaning, as she absorbed the dragon's wisdom. He had a vast understanding of many other words, too, but they held no special meaning to Eilen. The only thing she heard was _fus, fus, fus, FORCE._

Eilen lifted her golden face to the sky, and her green eyes opened. They seemed fiercer, and they seemed to glow with power.

' _FUS!_ ' she shouted. A translucent blue cloud roiling with energy hurtled forth as she shouted that one word full of power.

'It can't be,' one of the Whiterun guards whispered in a shaky voice. 'The Dragonborn is an Elf!'

'What now? Eilen murmured, confused. Hadvar was suddenly next to her, and in a flash, she was in his arms, her legs now in the air. He was holding her like she had just fainted – her head leaning on his shoulder, her arms around his neck. He held her close, and said; 'The Champion must rest. She has just slain a dragon, after all.'

'Hadvar, don't. I can stand,' Eilen muttered.

'You're as white as a sheet, Eilen. Sleep. I'll carry you back to Whiterun,' Hadvar said, smiling ever so slightly.

'You little…' she murmured as her eyes started to close.

~

'You're sulking, Eilen.' Hadvar sat down on a chair next to her bed in Breezehome, a house that was given to her after the Jarl heard about the dragon's death.

'Am not,' Eilen mumbled. She looked around the master bedroom, paintings, wood walls, vaulted ceiling and amimal fur carpets. Fur blankets.

'You killed the dragon. The Jarl gave us a house. You're the Dragonborn.' Hadvar shook his head. 'What more can an Altmer ask for?'

'Not to be spread so thin the sun shines through me,' Eilen groaned. 'I was perfectly happy becoming a hero once in my life. Now, I am one again.'

'The people need you, Eilen. You are the only one who can kill Alduin.'

'What if I don't want to?' Eilen asked. 'What if I become like any other Altmer from Alinor? Hm? What if I just decide to pack up and go?'

'You won't.' Hadvar's voice was stern. 'You won't, because it's not who you are.'

Eilen looked at him in shock.

 ** _DOVAHKIIN!_**

The whole house shook. Screams were heard outside.

'Eh? What was that?' a nearly deaf person shouted outside.

'What a delayed reaction,' Hadvar said, rubbing his chin. He grinned. 'Dragonborn, eh? Now which one's the dragon – your ma or pa?'

Eilen giggled. 'My father was known as The Elsinfaere Dragon, provably because of his temper…' She sighed. There was an awkward silence.

'So the Greybeards called you,' Hadvar said, breaking the silence.

'Great. Now I _have_ to go to the Greybeards.'

'You were going to visit before the whole Dragonborn thing happened?'

'I was going to make the pilgrimage, yes.' Eilen's voice was a whisper. 'Martin always wanted to, and after Dagon, he had the chance. The Divines decided to let him live for a while longer. But, the people who wanted to make a Dragonborn that was not as… _noble_ … as Martin was… They stole some of his blood and poisoned him, remember?' Hadvar nodded. 'They waited for my husband to die.' Eilen's voice was soft and her hands started shaking.

'That's horrible.'

Eilen nodded. 'And seeing him in that cart on the way to Solitude… It was unnerving. Even if he really isn't back. I know he's dead for good… But it still derailed me… Akatosh called him back, it seems. He hasn't been back.'

'My Thane? Are you finally awake?'

'Hadvar… Who is that?' Eilen asked as a Nord with short brown, almost ebony hair walked into the room.

'Lydia. Your housecarl.'

Eilen groaned. ' _Housecarl_?' She looked at Hadvar. 'Do I _really_ need one? I've got you following me like a lost puppy, after all.'

'Yes, My Thane. You really do need me. And I can do much more than follow you. I can look after your house while you're away, and…' here, she looked at Hadvar for a while and then back at Eilen, 'any children you may have.'

Eilen laughed. 'My children are all grown up, Lydia. Joarelie's one hundred and thirty odd years old already.' And Alwya… Alwya was only ninety when she…No. Eilen shook her head. Don't think, don't feel.

Lydia said nothing.

'Eilen, the Jarl said to tell you to see him once you woke up.'

Eilen rubbed her forehead. She was getting a headache. Deirdre was trying to argue with a dragon's soul. She wanted to tell her it wouldn't work... But she couldn't interrupt Deirdre at all. To acknowledge her now was to turn into her.

~

'The Greybeards have summoned you to High Hrothgar,' Balgruuf said, looking impressed.

'That they have,' Hadvar said, grinning at Eilen.

'Why has Eilen not been speaking this whole time?' Irileth asked, looking closely at Eilen.

'The thought that Eilen can use The _Thu'um_ scares her,' Hadvar said. 'Besides, she's been complaining of headaches and saying Deirdre's been too noisy since Eilen absorbed Mirmulnir's soul.'

Balgruuf nodded. Hrongar and Proventus seemed confused. Finally, Eilen spoke, but her voice was no more than a murmur.

'Hadvar, we must go to Cyrodiil.' Her voice was soft, almost too soft to hear.

'Why?' Proventus asked.

Eilen's eyes flashed crimson. 'None of your business, Steward,' she growled. The _Thu'um_ was laced into every word, and Dragonsreach shuddered with each syllable.

'We can only wish you well for your journey, Thane Elsinfaere,' Balgruuf said, nodding solemnly.He saw the mad glint in her eyes. As much as he disliked Proventus, he didn't want his tombstone to read "Death By Deirdre".

With that, they left Whiterun behind, to journey to Cyrodiil.

~

As they walked, Hadvar asked Eilen why she wanted to go to Cyrodiil, of all places. Especially now.

'I need to visit an… old friend,' she murmured. She tapped her head. 'He can help me with Deirdre.'

~~~

 _Alrighty! So a lot of stuff happened this chapter - we even got a glimpse of the Aedra and Daedra. My favourite bit to write was Arkay and Florentius... I think the old priest of Arkay isn't actually crazy, and Arkay actually does talk to him and give him advice. It makes for good comedy._

 _If anyone is wondering (since Martin just made an appearance and was relatively alive) NO he will not be returning to Nirn. Akatosh derped and the other Divines didn't like it. No bringing back the dead, Akatosh!_

 **Akatosh: It was just one time.**

 **Me: And now Eilen is somewhat of a spastic wreck. Bad Akatosh.**

 **-Kynareth's rock warbler chirps-**

 **Akatosh: Don't test me, bird!**

 _Anyhow, read and review! Tell me what you think of my crazy story so far! Might upload another chapter tomorrow..._


	5. FIVE: Cyrodiil Arc: Bruma

**_Author's note!_**

 _Note that this isn't possible in the game (obviously lol) and that we're in Bruma this chapter - we're in Bravil next chapter. Soo quite a skip. It'll take them a while to get to Bravil but don't worry - you won't have to wait that amount of time to get the next chapter. The reason why I'm not making them visit the rest of Cyrodiil (yet) is because I'm not exactly sure about the state of Cyrodiil at this stage in the timeline. Also, if you haven't already checked it out, there is a bit of a background to my story and the layout for the stories in this series. Read and review!_

 **LAST TIME**

'The Greybeards have summoned you to High Hrothgar,' Balgruuf said, looking impressed.

'That they have,' Hadvar said, grinning at Eilen.

'Why has Eilen not been speaking this whole time?' Irileth asked, looking closely at Eilen.

'The thought that Eilen can use The _Thu'um_ scares her,' Hadvar said. 'Besides, she's been complaining of headaches and saying Deirdre's been too noisy after absorbing Mirmulnir's soul.'

Balgruuf nodded. Hrongar and Proventus seemed confused. Finally, Eilen spoke, but her voice was no more than a murmur.

'Hadvar, we must go to Cyrodiil.' Her voice was soft, almost too soft to hear.

'Why?' Proventus asked.

Eilen's eyes flashed crimson. 'None of your business, Steward,' she growled. The _Thu'um_ was laced into every word, and Dragonsreach shuddered with each syllable.

'We can only wish you well for your journey, Thane Elsinfaere,' Balgruuf said, nodding solemnly.

With that, they left Whiterun behind, to journey to Cyrodiil.

As they walked, Hadvar asked Eilen why she wanted to go to Cyrodiil, of all places. Especially now.

'I need to visit an… old friend,' she murmured. She tapped her head. 'He can help me with Deirdre.'

 **THIS TIME**

'Remind me – why does Bruma have to be so cold?' Eilen complained as they walked through the winding streets of Bruma.

'It's snowing.' Hadvar was smirking.

'So? It snows in Skyrim and it's not this cold… Half the time,' Eilen mumbled, rubbing her arms.

'It's winter.'

'It's winter in Skyrim too!'

'So?'

'Something's not right!' Eilen's voice implied something sinister… Daedric.

'Who's the Daedra of almighty cold?' Hadvar asked sarcastically.

'No one,' Eilen growled. 'But I need to see Sheogorath.'

'So you've said,' Hadvar observed drily. 'I'm sure he… she… it? I'm sure Sheogorath would like to see you too.'

'Sheogorath's a "he" now, Hadvar. No more oddities like me,' Eilen rolled her eyes skyward. 'Deirdre's murder. I should've taken eternal rest in the Void.'

Hadvar's face went red. 'Don't say that,' he said sternly. 'I'm glad you're here, where you're meant to be. Besides,' he went on. 'I'm sure if a Dragonborn had anything important to do, Akatosh wouldn't sit by idly and let the Dragonborn drink tea with a madman, a dead old lady and a skeleton man.'

'Those people being in order: Sheogorath, the Night Mother and Sithis?'

'How observant of you,' Hadvar murmured.

'You!' an Imperial shouted.

In Eilen's defence, she was not expecting to be recognized. She was a member of the Cyrodiil Thieves' Guild, too, after some getting really bored. In her defense she had nothing to do, and she was right when she told Balgruuf she had no criminal record... She was never caught. Except for the sweetroll incident, but to her it didn't count. She had the Cowl of the Grey Fox, too. She was in Bruma to stock up on her winter clothes. And to fetch her spare bottomless backpack for Hadvar.

'Don't shoot! Don't shoot! I didn't do it! It was the Argonian, and the Dunmer with the odd hair! The Bosmer's in on it too!'

'Get your free Black Horse Courier right here!' he yelled jovially.

'Phew,' Eilen sighed. She was not recognized after all.

'What was that about?' Hadvar asked.

'Cyrodiil Thieves' Guild code for "Oi, Dunderhead, it's me! Your leader!" We're simple people, Hadvar... The code is for guards who are on our side...' She grinned maliciously.

'Yeah, simple.' Hadvar smirked. They soon reached a house.

'Home sweet home,' Eilen said, smiling. She unlocked the door with a brass key on the keychain hanging off her belt. She opened the door after the lock clicked.

'Most of the homes here have gone through improvements,' Eilen said, leading him through her house, to a staircase leading down to the master bedroom.

It was at this point that Hadvar started panicking.

'I, however, requested my house stay the same until the end of time,' she added.

Eilen walked to a cupboard and pulled out some winter cloaks. Hadvar calmed down, heaving an audible sigh.

'What's wrong, Hadvar?' Eilen asked, turning around to look at him.

'Nothing. Nothing at all,' he said.

'Are you sure, Hadvar? You're as white as snow, and I'm definitely not making a reference to your Nord heritage,' she said, an eyebrow raised, setting a pile of winter cloaks down on an end table.

'I said I'm fine,' Hadvar said, a faint smile on his face as he looked at a small painting on Eilen's bedside table.

'That's me when I was twelve.' Eilen's voice took on a dreamy tone.

'You were so cute,' Hadvar said, looking closely at the image.

' _Were_?' Eilen raised an eyebrow.

Hadvar held out a mirror so she could look at herself. There was a thin scar on her cheekbone, so faint you could almost not see it, but in the light of Eilen's lamps, it was visible. Her mouth was pulled into a permanent frown, and her eyes looked tired.

'Who's that?' Eilen asked sarcastically.

'You,' Hadvar replied laughing a little. 'You've looked like this ever since you absorbed that dragon soul.'

'Blame the dragon, he said,' Eilen retorted. 'It will be fun, he said. Just now another dang dragon swoops down and tries to eat us.' Eilen rubbed her forehead with one hand.

'Where's the scar on your face from?' Hadvar asked.

'From the battle with Dagon long ago,' Eilen said. 'He broke the roof of the Temple of the One and a shard of rock hit me in the face.'

'Eilen, I think you should take a break.'

'From what?'

'Everything. Just go on a holiday.' Hadvar's eyebrows furrowed.

'I can't. Unlike you, I am the Dragonborn, the Champion of Cyrodiil, and my brother is Sheogorath.'

'Your brother?' Hadvar asked.

'Yes, my brother, the mighty Eldaon Elsinfaere,' Eilen grumbled. 'My twin.'

'That means he has Dragonblood too?' Hadvar guessed.

'No. The Dragonblood was bestowed upon me in some "tragic" way, remember? When Akatosh gave me a dragon's soul and his blood. And… The incident. Eldaon is completely normal. And he's holding court in the Realm of Madness.' There was sarcasm in Eilen's voice as she said "tragic". She still referred to her blessings from the Divines as a curse. No wondering why. She was now being chased by dragons.

'The recent sightings of Sheogorath were of an Imperial male,' Hadvar said pointedly. 'An old Imperial male.'

'Yes. They both rule. Eldaon is the saner of the two, and lets his buddy, the Original, run around. The Original, being Deirdre when she's not tormenting me. Deirdre doesn't mind being herself but prefers to be Sheo,' Eilen scoffed.

'So your brother, the one you never talk about, is the current Madgod, and here the people of Cyrodiil think the Champion went nuts and is now holding court in New Sheoth?' Hadvar asked.

'Yes, basically. I did, though. For a while,' Eilen said. 'I became Sheogorath. Deirdre. My brother came to find me, and fell in love with the Shivering Isles. He became the latest Sheo. Normally, I would have dissolved and become fleeting memories that plague the Sheo like madness. I still would exist in the history books and in my family's hearts, but I'd be in… a Void.'

'And how did you stop that?'

'My brother loved me,' Eilen said wistfully. 'Well, he still loves me. But he let me return to my mortal form and keep my new powers. Funnily enough, he didn't think I'd keep Deirdre in my mind. Something went _horribly_ wrong.'

'But, then when Deirdre disappears… What happens?' Hadvar asked.

'Eldaon rules the Shivering Isles. Deirdre morphs back into the 'Original' and torments the other Daedra.' Eilen shrugged.

'That's confusing…' Hadvar said, shaking his head.

'Well, when you give mortals the powers of a Daedric Lord, what do you think is going to happen? That we just assume our mantles and live forever?' Eilen asked.

'Well, you have a point, but I'm sure it's going to confuse everyone.' Hadvar shook his head. 'But, it makes sense, because it all involves the Sphere of Madness!' He looked at Eilen and chuckled.

'I don't know what goes on half the time,' Eilen sighed. 'My whole family is a family of Heroes. Even my cousin.'

'Meaning?' Hadvar asked. He gasped in horror 'Certainly not Elenwen?' he said in nock terror.

'My cousin, the only cousin I deem worthy of calling my cousin, Carilwe is the Nerevarine. My great- I don't know how many "great" grandmother Earnden was the Vestige. She defeated Molag Bal. She met Lamae Bal, the first Pureblood Vampire. I'm the Champion of Cyrodiil, and now the Dragonborn. It's all too confusing. But Elenwen is from my father's side of the family,' Eilen sighed.

'We should carry on,' Hadvar harrumphed. 'We need to get to Eldaon.'

~

'When are you and Eldaon going to merge?' Molag Bal asked Deirdre.

'Never,' the Nord said cheerfully.

'Not even when Elsinfaere dies?' Molag Bal's hideous face looked almost hopeful.

'Nope. Eilen won't die. When Eldy let her keep her powers, she kept her immortality too.'

'Brilliant. The Nerevarine doesn't die, the Vestige is somewhere in Meridia's realm, and now the Champion of Cyrodiil and the Dragonborn – who are the same person, mind you – are all unattainable! Do you know how mad that makes me?' Molag screeched.

'Almost as mad as I am, but of course, I'm insane and you're _angreh_ , Molag.'

'I owe Elsinfaere something. She stopped me from taking Tamriel as my realm.' Mehrunes Dagon was sitting in the corner nursing a Daedric brew of beer.

'Put a sock in your overgrown mouth, Dagon. You too, Bal.' Meridia basically growled the last part. 'Earnden is happy in my realm, where no one can bother her. It's not even in the history books, the fact she's there. You leave Earnden alone. Carilwe and Eilen as well,' Meridia shouted, her voice taking on the double timbre she used to intimidate necromancers. 'I don't care about Elenwen though. Go torment Elenwen.'

'Eilen's mine, Meridia. No Daedra has any claim on her. So I will claim her. I had her in my grasp for eleven years. I'll have a hold on her again,' Molag sneered.

'Actually,' Nocturnal started to say. Eilen had received the Skeleton Key many years before, but when she heard about the Twilight Sepulcher she gave the Key back. Nocturnal placed it in the Sepulcher and as a result the thieves of Skyrim were blessed with good luck… and the Nightingales watched over the Key.

'You shall not!' a male High Elf with long sand blond hair exclaimed, suddenly appearing in the room.

'Eldaon,' Azura purred, sauntering over to where the Altmer stood.

'Eilen is my sister,' Eldaon hissed. 'You'll leave her alone!'

'What could a half mad Altmer possibly do to me, the Lord of Domination?' Molag Bal asked rhetorically.

Eldaon grew in size and became encased in red crystal armour, not the usual colour scheme of Jyggalag's minions, though. A huge Sword of Order hung at his side.

'This,' Eldaon said in his terrifying voice. Molag Bal shivered.

'Jyggalag lives on, within me at least. No more snivelling in a corner about order,' Eldaon murmured. His voice was deep, strong and powerful. Well. More powerful than before.

~

'Well,' Eilen said to Hadvar, who was next to her. 'This trip is kind of boring. I'd have expected you to at least have some questions.'

'I do,' Hadvar replied. 'But I don't think that I should ask you,' he added, nodding his head towards the carriage driver. The carriage itself had a canopy and doors, so Eilen cast a Silence spell.

'Talk.' Her voice oozed power.

'What did everyone say when you married Martin?'

'Oh, _that_ was a scandal. But they all thought I was related to High Chancellor Ocato, so all was fine. They thought Ocato wanted Martin to marry an Altmer because they are 'the superior race'. Ugh.' Eilen looked at Hadvar and sighed.

'Life would have been much simpler had Martin not married me or even fallen in love with the lowly Hero of Kvatch,' she said, looking out the window.

'Lowly? You? Never.'

'I was in the Imperial Prison, Hadvar. That's how I met Uriel. That's how I was there when Uriel died. That's how I got the Amulet of Kings,' Eilen said.

'Must have been a mistake, like when you were on the way to Helgen. You shouldn't have been in that cart.'

'I was with the Thalmor,' Eilen sighed.

'I thought you joined the Thalmor after the whole Cyrodiil saga. Then you left and stayed in Windhelm,' Hadvar stated, raising his eyebrows. He didn't want Eilen to know Deirdre told him about her life pre-Oblivion Crisis with the Thalmor.

'I left the Thalmor. Jumped off the ship while it was on its way to Cyrodiil to kill Talos worshippers. The whole 'ban Talos' and 'Thalmor for the win' thing began way before Titus came into power. They didn't know I was gone. Then Elenwen reported me missing and I was imprisoned. Then the Crisis happened… Then after Martin was assassinated, I was lost. I became Arch-Mage, went to the Shivering Isles, became Deirdre, then Eldaon found me, and became Sheogorath. Let me keep my powers, and set me free in the mortal realm. Lost and alone, I re-joined the Thalmor. They welcomed me with open arms after they heard of my adventure in Cyrodiil, said I could choose the next Emperor if I so wished – since I was… Am… the Champion of Cyrodiil,' her voice trailed off.

'How were you found? ' Hadvar asked.

'I stole a sweetroll and got caught.'

'A _sweetroll_? Really?' Hadvar asked incredulously.

'Yes, Hadvar. A sweetroll. I had no money. I jumped off the ship before we got our allowance. I didn't want any money stolen from the Altmer taxpayers.'

'What happened next?' he asked.

'I woke up in the cell, the cell the Emperor eventually fled through, and there was a Dunmer in the cell across from mine. He made some fairly inappropriate remarks about me. I was very happy when he cropped up in a Dark Brotherhood assassination quest,' she said, giggling maliciously.

'You were with the Dark Brotherhood? But you told those bandits you weren't interested in the Brotherhood.'

'The Brotherhood in Skyrim is, apparently, an uncivilised rabble who don't follow the Old Ways, the Black Hand, the Speakers, the Listener… I'm the Listener. If they followed the Old Ways, they would have contacted me. The leader of each sanctuary is supposed to know a spell that can summon the Listener. The leader of the Falkreath Sanctuary, Astrid, hasn't cast the spell. So, when I'm finished with all this Dragonborn business, I'll mosey on down to Falkreath and raise Oblivion in that sanctuary.'

'You'll put things right?' Hadvar asked.

'Yes. I will.' Eilen's tone was resolute.

My Lady Elsinfaere, an assassin? Things just get more curious every time I get her into 'story-time' mode…

~

 _So Eilen's past reveals a few things and it turns out she **was** in the Brotherhood. But she doesn't like the Skyrim Brotherhood... So I don't think I'll have her join them... She might join the Thieves Guild on the quest to find Esbern. _

**_If there are any errors, please message me and I'll sort them out unless they're meant to be that way (eg. Hadvar calling Elenwen the Ambassador lol he gets confused a lot)_**


	6. SIX: Cyrodiil Arc: Bravil

Adventures of an Altmer – Book One: The Prisoner

6 – The Cyrodiil Arc – Bravil, Home of the Lucky Old Lady

Author's Note!

In the next chapter, Eilen finally reunites with her dear and almost insane twin brother, Eldaon! Just one more thing – he knows Eilen is the Dragonborn, thanks to his and her split personalities, his being the actual Sheo and Eilen's being Deirdre. He calls her _briinah_ , which means sister in Dovahzul, and he calls Hadvar _jul fahdon_ , which means, literally, man friend. He really thinks Eilen and Hadvar are engaged! It's really cute, actually.

Eldaon: What? They'd be cute together! I ship them.

Fox: Yeah, yeah, Eldy. Just go back to your palace. I hear the alocasia fruits are in season in the Halcyon Conservatory…

Enjoy!

-A note added like a minute before I posted the chapter haha: Please don't kill me if some of the formatting is wrong. I'm currently writing tenth grade November exams and I'm really excited to publish this chapter! Also I'm uploading everything on my phone... So please don't kill me!

 **LAST TIME**

'The Brotherhood in Skyrim is, apparently, an uncivilised rabble who don't follow the Old Ways, the Black Hand, the Speakers, the Listener… I'm the Listener. If they followed the Old Ways, they would have contacted me. The leader of each sanctuary is supposed to know a spell that can summon the Listener. The leader of the Falkreath Sanctuary, Astrid, hasn't cast the spell. So, when I'm finished with all this Dragonborn business, I'll mosey on down to Falkreath and raise Oblivion in that sanctuary.'

'You'll put things right?' Hadvar asked.

'Yes. I will.' Eilen's tone was resolute.

 _My Lady Elsinfaere, an assassin? Things just get more curious every time I get her into ' story-time' mode…_

 **THIS TIME**

'Milady, we're here,' the nervous Imperial carriage driver stammered.

'My thanks to you,' Eilen said, and Hadvar nodded his agreement.

Eilen walked down the road to the front gate of Bravil. The guards noticed the lovely looking (and superior looking) Altmer lady walking towards them with a Nord following close behind (they thought he was the lady's bodyguard) and hastily pushed the wooden gates open.

As Eilen waltzed past, she nodded to the guards without even looking in their direction.

She marched on down the streets of Bravil, heading straight towards the town square, guided by memory. True, all the people (other than most of the elves) had changed a lot. Obviously. She hadn't been there in two hundred years. Humans didn't live that long.

'The Lucky Old Lady is around this corner,' Eilen said, looking over her shoulder at Hadvar. She had such an elated look on her face. Hadvar found himself smiling at her immense joy to be back in the town she had lived in for the first few months of the Oblivion Crisis.

She rounded the corner –

And was horrified. The Lucky Old Lady statue was lying in pieces in the dirt surrounding the statue base. The Night Mother's crypt was open for all eyes to see.

Eilen hastily descended the ladder leading into the musty tomb, Hadvar following close behind.

The skeletons of the remaining members of the Black Hand sans Lucien and Arquen were still there, and the coffins containing what Eilen assumed were the preserved bodies of previous Listeners were there. She looked at the names inscribed on each coffin, tracing her fingers along the spidery letters. The newest coffin, albeit a two hundred year old coffin, caught her eye. Ungolim was written in Eilen's own handwriting on the lid of the coffin, above the following words:

'A faithful Listener until the end, betrayed by Mathieu Bellamont.

May you rest in peace until the end of time, my Listener.'

'Until the end of time…' Eilen whispered, then gasped. 'Hadvar, do you have my copy of _The Book of the Dragonborn_?'

Hadvar rummaged through his knapsack. 'I have it here,' he said, brandishing the book with the insignia of the Legion. He handed the book to her. She paged through it until she reached the last page. And read.

 _'When misrule takes its place at the eight corners of the world_ _When the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped_ _When the thrice-blessed fail and the Red Tower trembles_ _When the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne_ _and the White Tower falls_ _When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding_ _The World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn.'_

Hadvar blinked at the prophetic tone Eilen's voice took as she read aloud.

'Misrule…. Eight corners of the world… The Staff of Chaos! Jagar Tharn! The Eternal Champion, my great-however-many-great aunt Druriella used the Staff to destroy Tharn and bring Uriel back to Mundus… And here, _the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped,_ another relative of mine, the Hero of Daggerfall, Sirurmend, gave the Mantella to the Underking, allowing the Underking to pass into eternal rest. And here, the thrice-blessed fail… the Red Tower trembles… The thrice-blessed are the Tribunal, Sotha Sil, Almalexia and Vivec, the Red Tower is the Red Mountain, and trembles implies that the Red Mountain erupted – the Red Year. The White Tower falls tells about the Great War. Snow tower could be the Throat of the World, where the Greybeards live. Sundered, kingless, bleeding talks about the Civil war… The World-Eater is Alduin, and from what I know about the Wheel, from reading so many books the Wheel is Aurbis, the universe. At the centre of Aurbis is Mundus, this plane, the mortal plane, and at the center of Mundus is Nirn, this planet. I am the Last Dragonborn. This basically says that the universe turns to the Last Dragonborn to save Nirn.' Eilen sighed at the end of her "lecture".

Hadvar blinked spastically.

'You've deciphered what I tried to decipher as a child!' Hadvar said. 'I had a lot of books when I was a child…' he muttered.

'Hadvar, I've read tons of old books and tomes, and I've read an Elder Scroll while posing as one of the Camoran siblings…' Eilen said, her voice trailing off.

'It was you?' Hadvar asked.

'Yes, the one and only Eilen Elsinfaere. Now, let's see if my gate is still on that island. But first, a visit to my house!'

…

'My palace in Bravil,' Eilen said, sauntering through the small and cosy house. It was one large room, with a closet in one corner, a round table in the center, and a trapdoor to one side. 'It leads to my baths and basement,' Eilen said airily. There was a curtain hanging in an archway which led to Eilen's bedroom. The curtain rustled. Eilen raised her hands, a blood red spell in both. Hadvar unsheathed his sword.

An Altmer walked out, her hair tied up in a bun. The only sign of her age was the white lock of hair she sported.

'Arquen,' Eilen breathed, and lowered her hands, dismissing the spell. Hadvar slowly sheathed the sword, the steel blade making an eerie sound.

'It is so good to see you again, My Listener. The Unholy Matron spoke to me mere months after you left, and said that she would become inactive in the Void. There were Listeners, of course, but they had people posted in each city, listening for talk of the Sacrament in that county,' Arquen replied.

'A False Listener,' Eilen muttered.

'I am glad to see you again,' Arquen said again. 'I have a gift for you. Even though we all knew about you and the young Emperor,' here Arquen smirked, 'I knew you loved Lucien. And he, you.' She held out a book to Eilen.

Summon Spectral Assassin was written on the spine. Eilen opened the book –

And almost cried tears of immense sorrow. Lucien had asked her all those years ago, if one could make their spirit eternal and able to be summoned. Eilen thought that it was for Rufio, because, when she needed to cleanse the Cheydinhal Sanctuary, she received a scroll that was to summon Rufio's vengeful spirit from the Void.

…

'My dear Lady Elsinfaere, tell me, with your Thalmor knowledge of magic, is it perhaps possible to make a spirit come back from the Void?'

Eilen turned around, a quizzical look in her leaf green eyes.

'Why would you want to do that, dear loved one?'

Lucien groaned. 'I know of your courtship of Martin Septim, the heir of Uriel. Why taunt me so, Lady Elsinfaere?'

'Because I love you,' Eilen replied. 'It is a deep and confusing love, but love nonetheless.'

'Well? Can you do it? Summon a spirit from the Void, someone recently killed?'

'I suppose it's possible,' Eilen murmured. She walked over to the bookshelves, where her magic books were kept. 'Ah,' she said, touching a single finger to the spine of a deep purple and crimson book. She channelled a Telekinesis spell into that one dainty digit, and levitated the book to Lucien. 'This one,' she said. She levitated another purple book, with the symbol of the Conjuration field of magic on it, and said, 'This one.' She levitated one more… Her personal notes from the Thalmor mage academy years. 'And most importantly, this one.' She found a leather covered journal. 'My field notes,' she said, and walked over to Lucien, the journal in hand.

Eilen Elsinfaere. Thalmor Justiciar Mage, field notes was the title.

'You were a Justiciar?'

Eilen looked at Lucien imperiously. 'Read,' she commanded.

And so he did. And a week later, she was presented with a scroll to summon Rufio's spirit from the Void.

…

Eilen woke up on her bed. She didn't know how she got there. It was twilight, and Hadvar was next to her bed.

'You're awake,' Hadvar exclaimed.

'I am,' she said, putting a small hand over her eyes.

'Arquen left mere minutes after you fainted. She said she had business to attend to.'

'What a busy elf,' Eilen muttered. 'How long have I been asleep for?' She sat up. She was in her silken robes – a flashback to her Cyrodilic days.

She suddenly flushed crimson. 'Where did you sleep, and how did I find myself in my pyjamas?'

'Arquen dressed you. I slept right here,' he said, and gestured to where he was. Next to her.

'Pass me the book from Lucien, please,' she said, clenching and unclenching her hands.

He complied. Eilen opened the book and read the first page, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

Eilen. I know that, by the time you read this, I will be dead, long, long dead. I just want you to know that, even though you're now betrothed to the Emperor, I still love you. By now, you're probably married to him, and he's probably dead, as we humans don't live long. One last thing. When you get this spell tome, summon me.

L.L

The pages that followed instructed one on how to summon Lucien.

Eilen stood, and walked to her lounge and pulled a key from a small box on the dining table. She crouched by the trap door she had requested, and unlocked it. She then proceeded to descend the ladder into a small basement with enchanting and alchemy facilities, and a spell crafting stand with ample space to cast the finished product. Lucien's spell tome had a "first summon policy".

One had to create the Conjuration Field's symbol out of Deathbell flowers and Nightshade. Then, one had to chant a prayer to Sithis, claiming that the Listener calls for Lucien to walk the mortal plane.

Eilen did this, and a purple vortex swirled around her and the spot in front of her with an ominous sound. Hadvar looked on in shock and the vortex took on a shape of pure darkness, which filled the whole room, and a hand of pure black ringed with bone bracelets reached out with an ebony dagger. The hand stabbed the palm of Eilen's hand with the dagger, and her blood dripped onto the ground, in the center of the symbol, the little dot in the center of the Conjuration symbol. The Deathbell and Nightshade melted into a pure purple mixture that set in the shape it was laid in. The symbol flashed purple and then black and then –

Red. Red as blood.

The Void disappeared, and the wind whooshed back into the room with such force it blew Eilen and Hadvar's hair back.

And Lucien was standing there, in ethereal form.

'Listener,' he said, in a hollow voice.

'Lucien!' Eilen exclaimed.

The ghost looked shocked as he gained a more corporeal form due to Eilen frantically scribbling in the book with her own blood. Her palm was still bleeding, but she paid it no mind.

Very soon, he looked as he did in life, Black Hand robes and all.

'Oh, how I've missed you,' Eilen said, casting a healing spell. The golden light swirled around her hand, knitting the skin back together. When the light faded, she fell into Lucien's arms sobbing uncontrollably. The Speaker looked at Hadvar, standing in the corner of the room. Lucien patted Eilen's head. 'I've missed you too, Listener.'

'This is Hadvar, my companion,' Eilen said, breaking free from Lucien's hug and gesturing to Hadvar, who waved.

'You know who I am,' Lucien said. 'You have the look of someone who's read a lot of books.'

Hadvar's jaw dropped. 'Correct!' Lucien exclaimed triumphantly.

Eilen, Hadvar and Lucien decided to retreat to the ground floor of Eilen's house, to get away from the gruesome scene of Lucien's first summoning.

…

'Wow,' Eilen said as Lucien faded away with the words; 'Someday, you'll serve Sithis in the Void, as I do now.'

'Eilen,' Hadvar said, slowly.

'Yes?'

'You're an Altmer, and Altmer live long lives. Why, then, do you break down and cry each time you're confronted with something from your past?' he asked.

'My life has been prolonged drastically by the Divines,' Eilen said, looking downcast. 'I'm meant to be much older than I look. Because of this, I've lost more than I care to count. It hurts to see them this way, and everything else so different.'

Eilen sighed.

'This probably doesn't make any sense,' she said softly.

'It does,' Hadvar said. 'I'm a Nord. If I had to live a long life like you do, and I had to see people close to me dying before I even go grey, I'd be in exactly the same state as you are now.' He took her small hands in one of his large ones, and lifted her chin with the other.

'You have no idea how much you fascinate me,' he said, leaning closer. 'You are an Altmer, and yet you're the complete opposite of the rest. You're kind, caring and compassionate, and you don't look down your nose at anyone, instead you do your best to help them.' He leaned even closer, and lightly touched his lips to hers. He broke the kiss. 'And I love you.'

'And I love you, but I'll outlive you,' she wailed. 'I don't want to see another loved one die!'

Hadvar made a comforting noise and pulled Eilen into a warm bear hug. 'I'm not going anywhere.'


	7. SEVEN: Cyrodiil Arc: Eldaon Elsinfaere

Adventures of an Altmer – Book One: The Prisoner

7 – The Cyrodiil Arc – Shivering Isles, Home of Eldaon Elsinfaere.

Author's Note!

Wham, bam! You didn't expect the end to that chapter! Eilen and Hadvar had a moment! And they both basically declared their undying love for each other! I would just like to say something about Eilen before I carry on with the story. Eilen is not weak – she has just gone through a lot in her long life, and she needs a lil' love!And she's got so many powers, it takes its toll, especially in highly emotional situations, such as seeing Lucien's spell tome.

ONWARDS! Sheo awaits!

 _If the format is terrible, I apologise. As I said, I work from my phone and copy the chapters from my Word app and it doesn't keep the formatting._

 **LAST TIME**

'This probably doesn't make any sense,' she said softly.

'It does,' Hadvar said. 'I'm a Nord. If I had to live a long life like you do, and I had to see people close to me dying before I even go grey, I'd be in exactly the same state as you are now.' He took her small hands in one of his large ones, and lifted her chin with the other.

'You have no idea how much you fascinate me,' he said, leaning closer. 'You are an Altmer, and yet you're the complete opposite of the rest. You're kind, caring and compassionate, and you don't look down your nose at anyone, instead you do your best to help them.' He leaned even closer, and lightly touched his lips to hers. He broke the kiss. 'And I love you.'

'And I love you, but I'll outlive you,' she wailed. 'I don't want to see another loved one die!'

Hadvar made a comforting noise and pulled Eilen into a warm bear hug. 'I'm not going anywhere.'

 **THIS TIME**

'There's a boat we can take to the portal,' Eilen said. 'The portal is on a small island, basically made out of the same stuff the Isles are made of.'

'They installed a ferry system to a portal to a Daedric realm?'

' _I_ installed a ferry system to a portal to a Daedric realm.'

'Impressive,' Hadvar murmured.

Eilen led Hadvar out of the city, and walked towards a small dock that looked like it was built very long ago, but preserved through magic. A small boat floated lazily in the water, bumping softly against the wood in time with the movement of the water. A light mist floated just above the water's surface, and fireflies danced in the night's moonlight.

'Get in,' Eilen said, gesturing towards the little boat. Hadvar climbed in, and Eilen followed soon after. Together, they rowed to the odd islet in the centre of the Niben Bay.

'You know,' Eilen said while rowing, 'It's almost too easy to forget my Dragonborn status here in Cyrodiil.'

'I can imagine,' Hadvar said. 'I've not had to calm you down once – either to prevent your use of the Thu'um or transformation into Deirdre.'

'It's almost tempting…' Eilen murmured.

'Tempting?'

'Staying here, in Cyrodiil, away from all the nonsense in Skyrim, the fact that I'm a Thane of Whiterun, and that my destiny is to kill Alduin, and that I could die in the process. I don't like my destiny – I wish I could change it. But I can't,' Eilen said, looking straight ahead. 'I have to live with it.'

…

Eilen and Hadvar reached the portal a few minutes later – a few minutes of silence and awkwardness.

'My lady!' a Bosmer exclaimed as they neared the Portal.

'Hello, Natraedhel.' Eilen's voice was full of warmth when she pronounced the Mer's name.

'Your brother told me of your imminent arrival, and sent me hence on a journey to collect you at the Gates of Madness yonder.' She pointed at the portal some distance away.

'Natraedhel, it's the Fourth Era. We don't speak to visitors that way anymore,' Eilen chided softly with a slight grin.

'Would you prefer me using the dialect of Cyrodiil children?' Natraedhel asked pointedly.

'Let's hear it,' Eilen said, her slight grin a full grin now.

'Hey, man. Come check out the awesome Gates of Madness! The main man in charge, Eldaon, is a really fun guy! He –'

'Okay, stop,' Eilen said. 'You can talk normally, I'm sure.'

'Come inside,' Natraedhel said, gesturing for them to follow. 'Lovely weather in the Isles right now, perfect for visiting!'

At those words, Eilen was hit with a pang of nostalgia. Those were the same words Sheogorath said when he welcomed Eilen into the realm, and the same words she used when she welcomed her brother into the Isles.

Eilen felt the familiar warmth of the portal as she stepped through, and heard Hadvar's gasp behind her. He had never been through a portal before.

Eilen took his hand, and squeezed it reassuringly.

'It's okay,' she breathed, her voice echoed and distorted slightly by the transition between realms.

…

'Beautiful!' was Hadvar's first exclamation upon seeing the beauty of the realm. 'The sketches have done this realm absolutely no justice!'

'Don't go insane now,' Eilen warned. 'You don't want to stay here until the end of time, do you?'

'What if I go crazy about you?' Hadvar said, and Eilen just about died inside. 'So cute!' she exclaimed in her head.

'I'm sure that's fine,' Eilen said, looking at Natraedhel with a flushed face, while Nat just grinned. That grin clearly said 'you've found a good one'.

A tall elf materialized in front of them. He leaned over the table that was still there after all these years, the books still intact, and the pendulum still swinging. His long and dainty hands drummed a tune on the table, clearly _The Song of the Dragonborn_. Eldaon knew about his twin being Dragonborn.

' _Dovahkiin,_ ' he said. His voice hadn't changed. It was still deep and melodic, and had a lilt to it. Eilen had shaken the accent of the Altmer. Eldaon hadn't. His green eyes were just as slanted as his twin's, and just as green. His nose was only slightly upturned, and his lips were not, however, bow-shaped. He still had an odd sort of beauty around him, however, and his hair was just a shade darker than Eilen's sandy blonde hair.

'While I'm sure you're just dying of happiness to see me, sister, I'm sure this is not a social visit?' Eldaon asked with a sly smirk.

'Well…' Eilen murmured. 'I needed to talk to you. About Deirdre.'

'Deirdre giving trouble?' Eldaon asked with sincere concern. After all, keeping Eilen's powers was his idea. If his idea was hurting his sister, he would be angry.

'Yes, as a matter of fact, she is. Ever since I absorbed a dragon's soul, she's been constantly annoying me. Everything I do results in a comment from her, and she keeps trying to take over. It's annoying, and, since you're the latest Sheogorath, I thought you could maybe order her to stop?'

'Come to my palace.' Eldaon's voice was distant, and he snapped his fingers. They found themselves in New Sheoth Palace, and it hadn't changed a bit.

'Welcome to Palace Elsinfaere!' Eldaon exclaimed, spreading his arms out wide, and turning around, his long cloak swirling about his ankles, the huge tree in the throne room directly behind him. He walked down the stairs to Eilen, and swirled his hands around. 'DEIRDRE!' he exclaimed. 'COME FORTH!'

Eilen was suddenly suspended mid-air as she shrunk and changed, Eilen's malevolent red Daedric magic aura swirling around. Deirdre floated to the ground.

'What do ye want, Lord Eldaon?' she asked mockingly, and bowing cheekily.

'I want you to leave my sister alone.'

'Ye do not understand. I am yer sister, yer sister is me! There ain't no leavin' alone!' Deirdre exclaimed happily. She kicked off the ground to float, trying to look bigger than Eldaon.

'You will.' Eldaon said, growing in size, and red crystal armour forming. He reached into a pocket of the Void, and pulled out a polished Order Sword.

'You will, or else I will banish you to suffer in the Soul Cairn!'

'Banish me, and your precious sister will be banished alongside me!' Deirdre exclaimed. 'I shall not be banished! Never!'

'So be it,' Eldaon said grimly, a helmet forming on his head. 'I banish you!' he bellowed, and Hadvar went white. Eldaon was insane! Why banish his own sister?

'Wait!' Deirdre shrieked as Eldaon pointed the Staff of Sheogorath at her, held in his left hand while his other hand gripped the Order Sword.

Deirdre muttered something, and she was separated from Eilen's body, and the Altmer dropped to the ground, gasping for breath.

Hadvar ran to her side.

'Calm down,' he soothed. He ran his hands through her hair, now a beautiful satin blonde with sand blonde highlights, and pulled her into a tight hug. He glared at Deirdre.

'You stay away from her,' he growled, his Nord accent very intimidating.

'Deirdre, I strip you of your powers, and immortality, and sentence you to life in the district of Crucible. No one shall remember you as one of the rulers of the Isles. Go!' Eldaon commanded. He swirled his hands around Deirdre, and, almost painfully, Deirdre's Daedric powers drained from her body. She grunted in pain. Eldaon then formed a red sphere from the powers, and pushed some magic into it. He then absorbed it, and concentrated. He started glowing gold and red, the colour of a dragon soul, and the energy flowed into Eilen's body much like the soul of a dragon would, and then –

Eilen fainted, her head almost hitting the stone floor.

…

'Eilen! You're finally awake!' Eldaon said, as he sat by her bedside, Hadvar in the background.

'What did you do?' Eilen asked.

'Nothing, really, I just –'

'What did you do?' Eilen screamed. 'I JUST SLEPT! WITHOUT DEIRDRE MAKING AN APPEARANCE! WHAT DID YOU DO?"

'I BANISHED HER! HAPPY?' Eldaon shouted back. Hadvar cleared his throat and backed out of a nearby door.

'OF COURSE I'M HAPPY! BUT WHY DID YOU MAKE ME ABSORB THE POWER LIKE A DRAGON SOUL? I FEEL ODD NOW! DUNDERHEAD BROTHER!' Eilen shrieked.

'What else did you expect me to do?'

'I don't know, Eldy.'

'Eily, you need to know that I'm deeply sorry for inflicting Deirdre on you.'

'It is fine, Eldaon. If you didn't, I'd be an old elf, and Hadvar would be running in terror. "Oh no, it's a hag coming to catch me!"'

'You're not a hag. You're immortal.'

'I'm well aware of that fact, Eldaon,' Eilen groaned. 'But what I'm concerned about is Hadvar. How am I going to live if another person close to me dies?'

'I'll make him immortal.'

Eilen gasped. Scenes of a never-ending life with Hadvar flashed before her eyes, and then she remembered his words; ' _I'm a Nord. If I had to live a long life like you do, and I had to see people close to me dying before I even go grey, I'd be in exactly the same state as you are now._ '

 _Of course_ , Eilen tgought. _He's a Nord. He wants to go to Sovngarde._

'No. He wants to go to Sovngarde one day, you can't do that to him,' Eilen murmured sadly.

'If it means I can stay with you, then Sovngarde can be forfeited.'

Eilen gasped again. 'Hadvar?'

When Eldaon had mentioned immortality, Hadvar had come back into the room.

'I changed my mind. And if your brother can make me immortal, then I'll accept it, to be with you forever.'

A tear slid down Eilen's cheek, and briefly lingered over the small scar there.

'You'd sacrifice going to Sovngarde for me?' she whispered. Hadvar rolled his eyes, sighed sarcastically and sauntered over to Eilen's bed. He sat down next to Eilen, and wiped the tears off her cheeks. He kissed her, and, after a while, Eldaon cleared his throat uncomfortably. Hadvar broke the kiss, and smiled, resting his forehead against hers. 'I'd sacrifice Nirn for you, were it in my power.'

And then, Eilen burst into tears. She held onto Hadvar as if her life depended on it, and cried. Hadvar patted her back, and whispered part of The Song of the Dragonborn to her.

' _Jul fahdon_ ,' Eldaon said, 'Take care of my sister, and invite me to the wedding.'

Eilen choked on her tears and looked at Eldaon. 'WEDDING?' she spluttered. 'What wedding?'

'You two are betrothed, are you not?'

'NO!' they shouted together.

Eldaon smirked, giggled, and left the room.

…

Days later, after Eldaon made Hadvar immortal, and assured the couple he wouldn't be disturbed by an alter ego like Eilen was, Eilen decided it was time to leave the Shivering Isles, and Cyrodiil.

'I can help you with that,' Eldaon said. 'Where would you like to go?'

Eilen looked down, thought for a moment, and then looked up.

'High Hrothgar,' she said decisively. 'I'd like to go to High Hrothgar.'


	8. EIGHT: High Hrothgar - Dovahkiin

Adventures of an Altmer – Book One: The Prisoner

8 – High Hrothgar – Dovahkiin.

 **Author's Note!**

I know, I know, -dodges tomatoes and soul gems- the last chapters were short, but HEY! I didn't exactly know how to incorporate Cyrodiil into Skyrim fan fiction, because we don't really know what sort of state Cyrodiil is in during the events of Skyrim, except for it still recovering from the White-Gold Tower being destroyed lol.

We are starting with the main quest now.

 **LAST TIME**

 **...**

 _Days later, after Eldaon made Hadvar immortal, and assured the couple that he wouldn't be disturbed by an alter ego like Eilen was, Eilen decided it was time to leave the Shivering Isles, and Cyrodiil._

 _'I can help you with that,' Eldaon said. 'Where would you like to go?'_

 _Eilen looked down, thought for a moment, and then looked up._

 _'High Hrothgar,' she said decisively. 'I'd like to go to High Hrothgar.'_

 **THIS** **TIME**

 **...**

Eilen wouldn't look down, she didn't want to open her eyes. Hadvar was tense beside her, and he gasped. Eilen opened her eyes a crack as they shot past the White-Gold tower, which was undergoing repairs. They flew past Bruma, and the Jerall mountain range seemed to undulate under their feet as they sped past. They were deposited on the doorstep of High Hrothgar, and the wind they flew on seemed to pat the snow off their shoulders before it dissipated.

'Eldaon has got to teach me that spell,' Eilen said, looking at their scenery. They were now in Skyrim, close to the summit of The Throat of the World. Hadvar let out a whopping sigh.

'That was… Entertaining,' he said, slightly out of breath.

'Let's go inside,' Eilen said. 'You're as white as snow.'

They walked inside, and were greeted with the warmth of fire and the soft glow of lanterns. They walked to the center of the large temple of sorts, and a voice startled them, breaking the silence with its tone of ancient wisdom.

'So, a Dragonborn appears at this time, at the turning of an era.'

'So you know I'm Dragonborn?' Eilen asked.

'We do not know for sure if it is true, Mer. I'd like to test it,' the voice said, an old man, walking slowly into the light, followed by three other old men with long grey beards and grey robes. 'I am Master Arngeir. Master Einarth will teach you the second word of Unrelenting Force, _Ro_. If you truly are _Dovahkiin_ – Dragonborn – learning the new word will not be a problem for you.'

One of the monks, Einarth, walked to the center of the room, where the light shone through the roof, and whispered. ' _Ro_.'

A small puff of a blue force spilled from his lips, and engraved itself into the brick floors. Master Einarth bowed and backed off, and stood a small distance away.

Arngeir nodded, and Eilen moved towards the engravings in the dragon tongue, so familiar, like those on the wall in Bleak Falls Barrow, and her vision blurred slightly. The scars on her neck burned, and her blood boiled. Her spirit soared, a familiar feeling. Bleak Falls Barrow. Western Watchtower. The old Ayleid ruins her operation was done in, all those years ago.

Her eyes snapped shut as the word _Ro_ was absorbed into her awareness, the word's meaning coming to her immediately. Balance. _Fus Ro_. Force, Balance.

The burning stopped as she finally understood. She gasped as she opened her eyes, the world suddenly brighter than normal, and her eyesight unusually sharp.

'You learn a new word like a master,' Arngeir spluttered, amused. 'You truly are Dragonborn. Master Einarth will now allow you to tap into his knowledge of _Ro_.' Einarth nodded and stepped forwards again, and touched a hesitant hand to Eilen's head, and Eilen gasped as he let energy flow towards her, energy reminiscent of a dragon soul. As the energy ripped through her being, she realized it was, in fact, a dragon's soul. _Ro_ couldn't be clearer to her in that moment.

'We will now let you practice your new Shout. As more words are added to a Shout, the more powerful it becomes. Each Shout consists of three Words of Power. These words are scattered, forgotten, all over the province.' He paused. 'Master Borri. Conjure a target for the Dragonborn to Shout at.'

' _Fiik Lo Sah_!' Borri shouted. A wispy clone appeared from a light blue void.

'Shout, Dragonborn,' Arngeir commanded.

Use your words, Eilen.

' _Fus Ro_!' Eilen shouted.

'Ack!' the clone exclaimed, and disappeared.

'Master Wulfgar.'

' _Fiik Lo Sah_!' Wulfgar shouted.

' _Fus RO_!' Eilen shouted again, her throat starting to burn a little.

'Master Einarth.'

' _Fiik Lo Sah_!'

' _Fus RO_!' Eilen shouted. Her throat's burning got worse.

' _Fiik Lo Sah_!' Arngeir shouted, the last clone appearing from the same light blue void as the others came from.

' _ **FUS RO**_!' Eilen suddenly screeched, much incensed by always having to shout. Her throat burned for Talos' sake!

A huge blue force spewed from her mouth, knocking Arngeir, Borri and Wulfgar backwards, and shattering all the pottery behind them. Hadvar was glad to be standing behind her, by the altar.

The Greybeards looked frightened at the sudden display of power.

'Come to the courtyard,' Arngeir said. 'We have one more thing to teach you.' He gestured for Hadvar to follow, as well.

…

' _Wuld_ ,' Borri murmured, and a slight puff of wind blew the snow aside to latch its Word's engraving into the stone of the courtyard.

Eilen made quick work of learning the Word, and accepted Borri's dragon soul.

'Master Einarth will now demonstrate Whirlwind Sprint,' Arngeir said.

They walked over to the gate that stood there for no apparent reason, and stood between the pillars. Master Einarth nodded to Borri. Borri shouted a single word, seemingly not a Word of Power, but just a word. Possibly in the dragon tongue. ' _Bex_!'

The gate swung open, and Einarth shouted. ' _Wuld Nah KEST_!' He was carried forwards with the wind as he Shouted, his voice high pitched as he sped up. He turned around with a triumphant grin on his wrinkled face as soon as he stopped moving.

'Your turn!' Arngeir said. 'Stand next to me, Master Borri will open the gate, and you must use Whirlwind Sprint to get through the gates before they close.'

Eilen sighed a long-suffering sigh. Her throat still burned somewhat.

' _Bex_!' Borri called again.

' _ **WULD**_!' Eilen screeched, and was propelled forwards at an alarming pace, and she stopped just short of the end of Einarth's skid marks left in the snow.

'Good. You learn quickly. We have but one more task for you, _Dovahkiin_.' Arngeir's voice was soft and reverent.

'What is it?' Eilen asked, honestly curious.

'We would like you to retrieve the horn of our founder, Jurgen Windcaller,' Arngeir said. 'It would be a good task for you, to prove your mettle. And, if I'm not mistaken, there's a Word in Ustengrav, where he is buried.'

'So, I appear here, you teach me, and send me on a quest and you're not in the least bit suspicious?'

'No,' Arngeir said simply.

'Brave or stupid? Which one,' Eilen muttered. 'Well,' Eilen said in a normal tone. 'We'd best be going, Hadvar.'

Hadvar nodded.

They said their goodbyes to the Greybeards and made their way down the mountain.

'I should've asked Eldaon for that spell,' Eilen muttered. 'I could have us in Riverwood by now, or even Whiterun.'

'Maybe you should go see him when all this Dragonborn business is over,' Hadvar said with a faint smile. 'Then you can learn all the nice spells he has to teach you.'

'You think I'll live through this?' Eilen said.

'I know you'll live through this,' Hadvar said.

'I can only hope so,' Eilen said as she aimed a Doom spell at an ice wraith. The wraith toppled to the ground and let out a sigh as it died a painless death.

'What does that spell do?' Hadvar asked Eilen as they moved on.

'Well, it paralyzes the foe,' Eilen said. 'Then it does damage to health, does fire damage and disintegrates armour, if the foe is wearing any,' she said, nodding to the ice wraith's ice pile. 'The wraith wasn't wearing armour, so the disintegrate armour attribute of the spell had no effect. The paralysis, fire damage and health damage, however, worked. It died a fully painless death.'

'Why make it painless? Shouldn't magic… uh... you know, hurt? Fire and ice and lightning and boom.'

Eilen chuckled. 'I'm not heartless. If a spell has that much power and causes that much pain, then it must at least be neutralized by something.'

'Wish the other mages were like you,' Hadvar grumbled. He remembered being hit by a flames spell once, and it hurt. He was bedridden for days.

'I tried to convince them that my methods were best,' Eilen admitted. 'But, not long after I became Archmage, the Guild was disbanded. Maybe it's because I ran off to the Isles, in search of any magical threat, and never came back.' Eilen sighed. 'I tried to come back, but I saw no one worthy of taking the title of Mad God… Until my brother came from the Summerset Isle and found me, that is.'

'What happened next?' Hadvar asked.

'I think that's enough for today, Hadvar,' Eilen said. Hadvar nodded, and Eilen looked at him more closely with a smile. 'It's not so much more until my story is over,' she added.

Hadvar reached out and pulled Eilen into a hug. Eilen skidded to a halt with a squeak. The snow crunched around her iron boots.

'Your past doesn't define who you are, Eilen.' His voice was soft, and warm. 'Never forget that.'

Eilen smiled and lightly punched his leather armour. 'Let's get down this mountain before we catch a cold, Hadvar.'

...

Eilen shivered. 'I hate the cold,' she grumbled. Hadvar put his arm around her as they walked. Eilen kept shivering. He examined her face. Her lips were turning blue. Hadvar unfastened his travelling cloak and draped it over Eilen's Vale deer pelt. Eilen turned her face towards him, and Hadvar was shocked to see it was pale white. His first thought was " _DEIRDRE!"_ but Eilen's features were still Elven.

'I think I exerted too much ener-'

Eilen didn't get to finish her sentence. She fainted. Hadvar caught her before she hit the snow, and pulled her into his arms, setting her on his lap. The air in front of him shimmered, and he squinted at the person who stepped out of the invisible tear in the fabric of the world.

' _Jul fahdon,_ ' Eldaon said, as a way of greeting.

'Eldaon,' Hadvar said, relieved. 'Help.'

Eldaon handed Hadvar a book. 'Put this in her backpack, give it to her when she wakes.'

'What's that going to do? I need help, Eldaon. She's fainted, we're on a mountain, and I can't carry her all the way down.'

Eldaon sighed and rolled his eyes skyward. 'Quit whining. I gave you that book so you can prevent this.' He clicked his fingers in an almost nonchalant way. Hadvar and Eilen disappeared, and he chuckled. The air next to him shivered.

'Where did you send them?' Molag Bal asked.

Eldaon turned towards Molag Bal. He grinned in the most menacing way possible for a regal-looking Altmer. 'Morthal.'

'And you gave the mortals that spell of ours.'

'She's my sister, and was our champion in the Third Era. She's also blessed by the Divines. She's the Dragonborn. She's the Champion of Cyrodiil and the Hero of-'

'Yes, yes, shut up, Sheogorath.'

Eldaon's face morphed into that of a male Imperial, and he became more stocky and small.

'Did you really have to do that?' Sheogorath said in a mixture of his and Eldaon's voice. He grimaced. Then he slowly turned into Eldaon until he was himself, just considerably shorter.

'Bother,' he said, and willed himself to grow taller.

'You will leave them alone,' Eldaon threatened, and teleported away.

'I wouldn't count on that, Elsinfaere. I will have what was taken from me returned to my fold.'

 _OHHHH SNAP! I incorporated fast travel, and Molag wants Eilen for some unknown (for now ahahahaHAAA) reason. Enjoy the chapter! And enjoy your holiday season! Merry Merry!!_


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